Texas 1857
by joyindenver
Summary: A young bride, Isabella, has never known the passion between a man & woman, nor the love of a man. One day soldiers seek shelter on her plantation. After years of doing things by the book, Major Whitlock finds himself desiring another man's wife.AH/AT/OO
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** The Twilight Saga and its original characters are the sole property of Stephanie Meyers. I do not claim ownership to her characters. _Texas, 1857_ is strictly a creative writing exercise.

**Rating T:** This story will contain strong but non-explicit adult themes that are not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16.

**Summary: **(AH/AT/OOC) A_ short historical romance. _At the age of 15 Isabella, a young Hispanic girl whose family's lands were seized by the US was married off to a childless widower, Edward Masen Swan. Nine years later, a medical corp Army platoon on their way to Fort McIntosh in Laredo, TX seeks shelter at the Swan plantation. After years of doing things by the book, Major Whitlock finds himself desiring another man's wife. A series of events unfolds, forever entwining his destiny with Isabella's.

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**Texas 1857  
**Chapter One

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"Mistress Swan." Nathanial's baritone rumbled across the distance between him and Isabella. "I need to be excused for a few moments." Nathanial couldn't hold it anymore. In a few minutes he was sure he'd soil all over himself.

Isabella stood, turning toward the direction of Nathanial's voice. With her hand shielding her eyes, Isabella squinted. "Eygh," she grunted making a strange sound. "Nathanial por favor," she called out. Dropping her hand, she lifted her skirts with both hands just enough to be able to take long strides. "I've told you not to call me that." Her voice seemed to become more animated the faster she walked. "Even Margaret knows I don't like you to call me that," she rambled, "I'm still just the daughter of a hardworking respectable Mexican farmer. Nothing has changed except for my name and clothes." She came to a stop next to the wagonette, her hands on her hips. "Llámame Isabella." She stared down at Nathanial though from her position she had to crane her neck back to look up at him.

"Yes." Nathanial knew when Ms. Isabella started speaking Spang-lish he'd lost the argument. "But Mr. Swan told me it's to be Mrs. Swan or Mistress."

"Bueno, Mr. Swan no está aquí, right?"

"Yes, Ms. Isabella," conceded Nathanial. "He isn't here."

"If he was here it would be one thing. Pero look around." She gestured toward the horizon in each direction. "We're all alone out here. No Mr. Swan telling us how we ought to act or talk. Here, we're free. ¿Entiendes?" she asked looking up at him expectantly.

"You're somethin' else." Nathanial grinned. "You and your crazy ideas."

"Well, good." Isabella knew she'd won. "Go and do whatever you need to do." Turning, she went back to picking wild flowers and enjoying the sun.

Isabella was truly grateful that Edward had allowed her to get away from the house. Of course he'd sent Nathanial with her. With the Indian problems, he said she needed a guard, thus Nathanial. His appearance alone was enough to intimidate even a drunk. He stood at least six feet with broad shoulders and a protruding chest. Maybe to some white men, Nathanial being black only accentuated his intimidating physique, but to the Indians, Isabella doubted Nathanial would have the same effect.

"¿Qué pasó?" asked Alice, Isabella's little sister.

"Nothing," replied Isabella. "Sólo me dijo that he was going that way." She pointed toward the wagonette. "He said he'd be right back."

When Isabella and Alice were alone, away from Edward Masen Swan, they often spoke in their first language. But when they were around Mr. Swan, neither dared to speak nothing but English. He didn't tolerate it. Before age and infirmity weakened him, he'd beaten Isabella for speaking Spanish. She'd learned at the age of fifteen to be careful and mindful of her P's and Q's around him. Edward had a short fuse and wasn't shy about expressing his anger _on_ Isabella. Even now, infirmed, he was still rather strong. And Isabella had every right to fear a man who towered over her.

She was only fifteen when the widower Mr. Edward Masen Swan asked for Isabella's hand in marriage. He was nearly forty to her fifteen. Had their family circumstances been different, Isabella knew her father would have never allowed her to be married off to Mr. Swan. But Isabella was grateful that her father wasn't alive to see what they had become. Then again, she wished on the stars that her father Charles was still alive. Maybe if he was, their family would still have their farm and their own home.

After Texas' annexation to the US, they were assured by the new government that they could keep their land. That is until the treaty was ratified in 1848. The Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, had guaranteed that Mexican Americans would be allowed to keep their personal and property rights. That's what they said, but quickly it had become clear after 1848 that the new government had no intentions in honoring their land titles. The new government subjected Mexican American land owners to tedious and expensive litigations in order to keep their land. They had two years to have their land titles revalidated.

Isabella didn't know whether or not her father's efforts to revalidate their land would have succeeded. Before the two years were up, he died, leaving just her, her little sister, and her mother. The US seized her family's 300 acres; land that had been in their family for three generations prior to the US invasion.

That's when Renée, Isabella's mother, took a position working for the widower, Edward Masen Swan. One day Isabella remembered living in their hacienda and the next, her, her sister, and her mother were living in a small room.

"Isabella!" Nathanial shouted. The alarm in his strong voice boomed across the field. Isabella quickly stood. Her first thought was _Indians. _Nathanial was pointing toward the horizon.

"Alice, ven a mi." Isabella's hand reached out to her little sister. "Hurry, tenemos que ir."

"What's wrong?" asked Alice.

"I think there's Indians," explained Isabella. Alice turned to follow Isabella's gaze. "We need to hurry to the wagonette." Isabella tightened her grip around Alice's little hand. Dropping their baskets of wild flowers, they hurried toward Nathanial.

"Nathanial." Isabella's voice was urgent. She gripped her younger sister by her waist and hoisted her up. In one smooth movement, Nathanial took little Alice, situating her in the back of the wagonette.

"It ain't Indians, looks like white folk to me," Nathanial said reaching over the edge of the wagonette for Isabella's hand.

"I think he's right," said Alice, staring off into the horizon. "Looks like soldiers."

Isabella turned to study the figures.

"They're probably heading to Laredo," Nathanial guessed. There was a military fort there. Isabella took several hesitant steps alongside the wagonette. Alice scurried to the edge of the wagonette to be closer to her big sister. Isabella stood silent studying the silhouette of men on horses. In the distance she could see flapping lazily in the breeze what looked like flags.

"Yep," said Nathanial. "Soldiers."

"Can I go get our flowers?" asked Alice.

"Yes," Isabella absently replied.

Alice rushed over to Nathanial who helped her down from the wagonette.

"Don't go too far little Miss," Nathanial instructed.

As soon as Alice's feet touched the ground, she ran back into the field to gather the flowers her and her big sister had collected.

"Well," Isabella breathed.

"Sorry for alarming you Bella." Nathanial gave her an apologetic look.

"It's better to be safe than sorry." She smiled. The Indians in the area were hostile. The Comanche were causing a lot of trouble. They were moving down from the north into Texas in an effort to extend their reign. The Indian problem was one reason Texas entered the Union in 1845. Isabella had never seen an Indian in the flesh. All she had to go on were the periodicals Edward had delivered from Galveston. "I'm going to go help Alice."

"Don't go too far," Nathanial advised. Isabella gave him a sideways look. "I'm just sayin'. Them storm clouds are closing in something fearsome."

Isabella studied the storm clouds. Silently, she turned from her protector and headed toward Alice who had already moved on to picking more flowers.

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	2. Chapter 2

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**Texas 1857**  
Chapter Two

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"To hell with regulation," Jasper mumbled. He undid several buttons on his uniform, revealing his gray flannel shirt. It felt like he was being cooked alive. In Colorado his uniform had been comfortable, but since getting into Texas, he hated the damn thing. Each day seemed to get hotter. At their next stop he was changing into his other shirt, which he hoped he'd brought. It was God awful ugly with loud hickory stripes, but it was a lot cooler to wear in the summer heat.

"Looks like the storm is definitely headed our way," Sergeant Black informed his superior.

Major Jasper Whitlock just nodded his head, silently agreeing with Black's observation. By the look of the clouds, it was going to be a rough storm. The clouds were dark and low almost touching the horizon. They needed to find a place to camp out until it passed. He knew there was a town nearby, but he wanted to stay away from the distractions it would offer his men. _No._ He didn't need them whoring around catching something or getting too liquored up. They had to report to Fort McIntosh in Laredo and rejoin their squadron.

Also, if he headed into town, he'd feel obligated to swing farther off their route to go see his family, which meant he'd have to see Rosalie. Though his men, Jasper was certain, would welcome several leisure days, he wanted to stay as far away from Three Rivers as possible.

Jasper lifted his hat, rubbing the sweat off his brow with his forearm. Rosalie was lovely. _No_. She was a beauty molded from the finest materials. They'd grown up together, and for a while as kids, Jasper even had a crush on her. She'd been the first girl he held hands with, and the first girl he'd kissed. It only seemed logical that they would continue to share dozens of other firsts. Their families were hell bent on them marrying. Jasper was sure that she'd make a good wife, and a good mother. Surely then he should feel like the luckiest man in the world to be able to marry a beauty like her, but he was already married.

He was married to the US Army. Granted her arms weren't as soft as Rosalie's nor did she smell as good as Rosalie, but in the last seven years, the Army had been a good wife to him. He'd shared many firsts with her. For one, he killed his first man with her and well a whole lot of other things. Leaving her for a real flesh and blood woman just didn't appeal to him. The wide open spaces Texas offered him were far too alluring with her promises of adventure and freedom.

_One more tour,_ that's what he told Rosalie. One more tour and he'd come home and they would talk about their future. Jasper wasn't sure why he was holding it off. He knew as well as Rosalie that he was going to marry her. He was just trying to postpone it as long as he could.

Out of obligation and more so out of habit, he'd continued to write her over the last few years. That is until several months ago when he was in Colorado. He dreaded getting a letter from her pleading for him to stop home on his way through. He just wasn't ready to see her. Not yet. So he decided to postpone writing her until he returned to Laredo.

Several months ago, trouble with Indians had led his troop from Laredo to Fort Richardson near Jacksboro. From Fort Richardson, his troop joined the fight against the Indians, which had led them into Colorado. With that situation now secured, their medical corp was now ordered to return to Laredo.

"I hope this storm cools things up a bit," wistfully said Lieutenant Cullen, maneuvering his horse next to the Major. Taking out his neckerchief, he wiped the sweat off his forehead.

"I'm sure it will doc," Black said removing his hat. He took his big hand and wiped the bald spot on top of his head.

"Looks like a family," said Cullen gesturing toward the horizon. Jasper nodded. He'd spotted the wagon and three bodies as soon as they rounded the hill. The closer he and his men got, it became clear the three bodies were a man, woman, and child.

"Looks like they're heading out," observed Black.

"I'm sure hoping they can spare a barn." Cullen's eyes scanned the dark skies ahead of them. "That storm looks like it's going to be a doo-sie."

Jasper silently studied the landscape. His First Lieutenant was right. They looked like a family, which only served to remind Jasper of his own obligation to his family. Jasper's father said the future of Texas was in cattle, and Whitlock Senior was busy building his empire and busy getting his son to marry Rosalie Hale.

The Hales were from a well to do family, which meant money. According to his father, Rosalie was the perfect wife for the son and heir of an up and coming ranching empire.

_It could be worse, _Jasper silently lamented. She could have been ugly. He inhaled deeply. "Let's pick the pace up," he said. His men loyally followed his lead. He swatted away thoughts of Rosalie and of his father. He needed to find shelter for him and his men.

Several yards closer to what had looked like a family, Jasper spotted a large and imposing figure.

"Damn, he's a big son of a bitch," snickered Sergeant Black. "Ain't that cozy," he sneered.

"That's enough Sergeant," Jasper warned him as they approached within hearing distance from the woman and the child. Expertly maneuvering his horse's reigns, Jasper brought Allegro to a gentle stop a few yards from the wagonette.

"Gather up what you've got," Isabella gently instructed her sister. Alice nodded her head and was about to do as her sister said when the soldiers on horses caught her attention.

"Horses!" Alice exclaimed excitedly. Dropping the basket, she took off running toward the soldiers. Isabella had a mind to scold her little sister, but decided against it. Bending over, she took Alice's discarded basket before walking toward the soldiers.

"I'm Alice," she chimed looking up at the man on the lead horse. "What's your horse's name?" Jasper smiled at the little spirited girl standing expectantly next to him and his men. He dismounted his horse.

"His name is Allegro," Jasper answered.

"Can I pet him?" she asked looking up at the tall solider.

"Sure." Jasper grinned. Alice was utterly entranced with the horse, forgetting everything about the other soldiers or her sister. For a few moments Jasper's attention was on the little girl petting his horse. He patiently answered all her questions, from how old was Allegro, where did he get him from, to how fast could he gallop.

"I'll take those," Nathanial said as he reached out to take the baskets of wild flowers from Isabella. She readily handed them over to her companion. "Here." Nathanial gingerly handed her, her bonnet and shawl.

Isabella glared distastefully at the garments. She raised her hand in protest.

Nathanial gave her a silent plea with his eyes. Master Edward disapproved of Isabella walking around in her Spanish blouses, but Isabella ignored his silent reminder. For now she was free. She would wait until the last possible moment to replace the shackles of decorum she was expected to conform to.

Isabella walked passed Nathanial; her dark hair cascading over her shoulders.

Carefully, Nathanial sat her bonnet, shawl, and baskets in the wagonette.

"Afternoon Ma'am." Sergeant Black tipped his hat from a top his horse. With an arched brow, Jasper glanced up at Black questioning the Sergeant's changed demeanor. He turned around to see for himself what the fuse in Black's expression was about.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Posted:** 11/20/10**  
****Updated:** 3/31/12

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**Texas 1857  
**Chapter Three

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When Jasper's gaze found who had gotten Jacob Black to mind his manners, he froze. His heart jolted sending a sweet radiating pain through his chest. For several moments he couldn't remember how to breathe. Standing in front of them was a vision of fire encased in soft skin.

Jasper never knew it was possible for there to be so much territory to cover on one woman: her lightly toasted smooth skin exposed by the open neckline of her pink blouse; her hair dancing lazily under the breeze; her plump ruby lips; her dark sultry eyes with a promise of eternity in their depths. Jasper was instantly jealous of the black choker wrapped around her neck. That thin piece of silk kissing her neck where his lips ached to touch.

Isabella's complexion turned rosy under his intense gaze. Jasper's lips turned up at the edges. Her blush gave her the glow of a woman kissed good and hard for the first time.

"Ma'am." Jasper's throat tightened. Swallowing, he continued, "I'm Major Jasper Whitlock and these are my men."

"Bella," Alice chimed. "Look at the horses."

"Yes Alice." Isabella took her sister's hand.

"You didn't look at them Bella," Alice whined.

"Yes I did, they're very pretty," she assured her little sister. Turning her gaze back to the handsome soldier she acknowledged his introduction. "Major Whitlock." She gave him a shallow bow of her head. "I'm Isabella Báez y Mainka de Swan"

The air rushed out of Jasper's lungs like he'd just fallen off a bucking horse and got stomped in the gut. She was married. _Of course she was married_, he told himself. He was born and raised in Texas where half the population consisted of Mexican descendants. So he knew that the _de_ in her surname indicated she was married to some man named Swan. _The bastard,_ he thought. His jaw tightened.

"My men and I are headed back to Fort McIntosh." His tone was business like. "I was hoping to trespass on you and your husband's hospitality. The storm heading in won't be too kind on us out here in the open."

"Yes, of course." Isabella nodded. Once in a while soldiers traveling along the Troop Road that connected Fort McIntosh in the south and Fort Richardson in the north sometimes took shelter in their barn. "We were just leaving. You and your men can follow us."

"Hooray!" Alice jumped up and down in place. Her mind was already planning on how to sneak out as many apples from the bin without Margaret noticing.

"Thank you ma'am." Jasper tapped the brim of his hat giving Isabella a bit of a bow. Seeing the gentle curve of her mouth caused an odd sense of disappointment to hover over his heart. As irrational as it was for him to think it, he couldn't seem to fight the urge to hate the fellow she called her husband.

Isabella felt a heat rush over her face at the Major's gentility. She turned around and with Alice at her side they moved toward their wagonette. There was something about the way this tall handsome soldier looked at her that made her feel like she was drowning.

"I can't wait until I can have a horse of my own," little Alice rattled piercing Isabella's thoughts. She glanced down at her sister. With a smile, Isabella slowed her pace. Alice was practically running to stay in step with her stride.

"Is everything all right?" Nathanial asked.

"Yes," Isabella replied, feeling a bit dizzy after her meeting with the handsome Major. "Here," she grunted gripping Alice's waist and hoisting her up. Nathanial took her from Isabella. Before he could turn and help Isabella into the wagonette she'd climbed in and situate herself next to Nathanial. He just nodded his head and handed Isabella her shackles of cotton and lace. She took them unceremoniously from Nathanial and placed them on her lap.

A _click_ here and there and a firm grip on the reigns, Nathanial had the horses moving in the direction that would take them back to the house. As Alice sang in the back of the wagonette putting wild flowers in her hair, Isabella sat silently next to Nathanial. She gathered her hair, braiding it and eventually pinning it into a neat bun at the base of her neck.

Closing her eyes, she said a silent prayer. There was something about Jasper Whitlock that made her nervous. Though he wasn't sitting next to her, she could swear he was touching her; his fingers and lips marking a path along the back of her neck, slowly moving toward the side and down to the hallow space where her neck curved to join her shoulder. A shiver rippled through her. She shifted in her seat. It was wrong to think of another man touching her; much less a man she didn't know. It didn't matter who or what Edward was, she was married.

_Still,_ she gently told herself_. _Tentatively, she chanced another glance over her shoulder. Her gaze was instantly caught in Jasper's. A fire consumed her from the inside. She knew she should avert her gaze, but there was a strange power that refused to release her. His piercing eyes unsettled her. Quickly she turned her gaze away. Her hands were trembling. She slid them beneath her shawl, concealing them.

"You alright Ms. Isabella?" Nathanial asked.

"Yes." Isabella nodded not risking looking at him for fear that he would see the sins taking root in her heart. This was not good. A familiar heat consumed her flesh like when she'd read the novel _Gamiani,_ which Jessica Stanley had lent her. It had been a very bad thing she'd done to have indulged in reading the scenes depicted in that book, but the sensations it stirred in her were powerful. It was a frightening hunger that it had created inside her. Like then, she knew she shouldn't indulge, but she did anyhow. Turning her head again slightly, her eyes found him. Sitting tall and proud on his horse, he looked dashing and powerful.

Isabella allowed her imagination to wonder what he was like underneath the layers of his uniform. As if he'd heard her Jasper's eyes met hers again. A blazing heat washed over her cheeks, spreading down her body between her thighs and farther down to her toes. Startled by the sensations threatening to engulf her, she turned to look forward. She forced herself to keep her eyes straight ahead. She wasn't sure what was worse. The searing fire his gaze created inside her or the weakness she felt. Shifting in her seat, she made as if to adjust her position.

"We're almost there," Nathanial informed her. He thought she was simply uncomfortable sitting on the hard bench. Nathanial made a mental note to see if Margaret could make a cushion for the bench.

When the house came into view, Isabella secured her bonnet onto her head concealing herself from Jasper's gaze. From his horse, he watched her as she covered herself in her bonnet and shawl. If it was up to him, he would burn every shawl and bonnet she owned. He would want to be able to see her at all times. Her type of beauty didn't blind men, like Rosalie's. Jasper often thought of Rosalie as one of the goddesses of Olympia who toyed with mortal men. This woman, Isabella, her beauty was the reason why soldiers yearned for home. The reason why sonnets were composed. This vision of fire encased in soft skin, was the reason for the sunrise greeting the earth each morning and for the ocean tides meeting the shore.

_Pathetic,_ Jasper scolded himself for yearning after another man's wife. He had a woman who was more than willing and available back home to take him. Yet, he avoided her embrace. The thought of Rosalie's arms suffocated him. He had never yearned for the arms of a woman before. Oh, he had other desires he had been content to feed with the women he sometimes visited in the billiard near Laredo, but that was different. It was perfunctory; in and out.

He allowed his gaze to travel to Isabella again. There was something about this woman. Watching her made him yearn for something more. For the first he desired to make love: slow and deliberate. _It's just lust, _he assured himself. He gave his head a shake. _It's just been too long since you've cleared the pipes._ He looked over at her again. She was so close, yet out of his reach in more ways than one. He had no doubt of the unbridled passion she would possess, and this certainty made him restless. Unexpectedly she met his gaze again. Jasper quickly averted his eyes. Had he given himself away? He felt the blood rush to his face.

Sensing his owner was oblivious to their party stopping, Allegro, Jasper's horse, seeing the wagonette had stopped, came to a gentle stop next to it.

"Major," Isabella called out. Jasper briefly wondered what his name would sound like on her lips. "You can pull your horses into the stables. Nathanial will show you all to the barn," she explained standing a few feet from him and Allegro. "It should keep your men dry. You and your officers are welcomed to the spare rooms inside."

"Thank you ma'am."

"Can I brush your horse?" Alice asked.

"He wouldn't want anyone else to brush him." Jasper smiled. It was a brilliant vision.

_Oh dear,_ Isabella breathed.

"Did you hear that Bella?" Alice looked up at her big sister. "Can I?"

"Yes, as long as Nathanial stays nearby."

"Nathanial," Alice chimed. Jasper watched her approach the big man. He was amused by how comfortable Alice was around him. He would have expected any child to be frightened by his hulking frame and rumbling voice.

"When you and your officers are ready," Isabella began. Her gaze lingered on the Major's form as he dismounted his horse. "You're welcome to come up to the house."

"Thank you again ma'am." Jasper tilted his hat.

"It's Isabella," she quietly told him.

Jasper hesitated. Saying her name felt too intimate. Instead he smiled.

Isabella felt her insides flutter. She turned and headed toward the house. Bunching her skirts in her hands, she lifted them enough so she could walk more briskly. The sensations taking hold of her frightened her. This wasn't a book. She didn't understand how it was possible to feel this way.

Once inside, safe from Jasper Whitlock's smile, she leaned her back against the door and steadied herself.

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	4. Chapter 4

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**Texas 1857**  
Chapter Four

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"Alice?" Isabella heard the back screen door slam shut.

"I'm coming," grunted Alice, shaking off the dirt from her boots.

"It's time to get cleaned up" announced Isabella. "Margaret put out a basin in your room, and there's a clean dinner dress already laid out for you."

"I washed my face this morning already," pouted Alice. She stepped in to the kitchen, her arms crossed.

"Either you go do it yourself, or I will," Isabella smirked.

"It's a waste of perfectly clean water," mumbled Alice as she passed by Isabella. "Hey!" she shrieked. Isabella had given her a quick swat on her backside.

"Keep it down; we don't want Edward waking up."

"I'm goin' to get you for that," Alice poked her little tongue out.

"I can't wait," winked Isabella.

"You should probably go get ready yourself," gently suggested Margaret, giving Isabella a warm smile.

"Where's Nathanial?" asked Isabella. "I need him to go and tell the men dinner's almost ready."

"He's sitting up a table in the barn for them right now," answered Margaret. "And I told him to let the officers know—," the faint knock at the front door interrupted her. "That would be them," knowingly grinned Margaret. She was old enough to be Isabella's mother, which meant she was no spring chick, but an experienced hen that recognized the rush a woman got on her cheeks from a handsome face.

"Well, I'll go get them settled in, and—"

"Nathanial will take out that big pot," interrupted Margaret, "And I'll make sure they have plenty of bowls and forks."

"Don't forget the bread," playfully winked Isabella.

"Go on," Margaret gestured for Isabella to go tend to her handsome guests. With a bright smile on her face, Isabella exited the kitchen making her way to the front door.

At the realization that on the other side of the door was Jasper, her heart raced.

The same war drums were playing inside Jasper's chest. With the back of his hand he wiped his forehead. Though the temperature had cooled off considerably with the approaching storm, Jasper was sweating. His first Lieutenant, Carlisle Cullen, gave his friend a warning smile. Unlike most men, it was the details that never escaped Carlisle's attention. It was probably the years of being a doctor that helped. Still, he felt it would have taken a blind man not to have seen the obvious attraction between his friend and their beautiful hostess. If the heated glances they'd shared hadn't given it away, their bodies silently communicating to one another would have.

Carlisle was certain that at the first opportunity Jasper and Mrs. Swan wouldn't be able to help themselves. Five years of fighting next to the same man, you learned things about each other. And he knew his friend. Carlisle hoped the thunderstorm would be a fast moving one. The sooner his friend could leave the better. It was one thing when a man's lust was fueled only by carnal desire; it was an entirely different beast when it was fueled by the heart.

The front door creaked.

_Breathe Isabella,_ she reminded herself as she opened the door. "Hello officers," she smiled forcing her nerves into the background of her consciousness.

"Good evenin' ma'am," Jasper smiled. The spark that Isabella had noticed in his eyes and face from earlier today seemed to brighten. Isabella had always wondered what it meant for a woman to swoon at the sight of a man. Now she knew.

"I'll show you both to your rooms," Isabella gestured toward the staircase.

"After you," Jasper nodded for her to lead the way. Almost instinctively, his hand came up to rest on her lower back. Inches from touching the forbidden fruit, he stopped himself. Before Isabella could notice, he withdrew his hand. Carlisle patted his friend on his shoulder. With a reassuring smile, Carlisle stepped in front of Jasper and followed Isabella. She led them up the staircase.

"This is my husband's room," Isabella gestured to the first door on the right as she walked past it. "He's very ill. I'm not sure if he'll feel strong enough to join us."

"What's wrong with him, if you don't mind me asking?" Carlisle asked delicately.

"We're not sure," whispered Isabella. "The local physician has done his best to make him comfortable." Isabella stopped at the next door. "This will be your room Lieutenant," she opened the door taking a few steps inside. "It's rather modest, but I think it'll do."

"It definitely will. It has been many months since I've had the pleasure of a real bed."

"Margaret and I put new linens on the bed. There are some bathing linens as well on the chair," Isabella gestured to the bulky upholstered arm chair. "I wasn't sure if you wanted a bath, so I had Laurent bring up some hot water just in case. It should be warm enough now if you'd like to freshen up."

Carlisle looked over at the bath basin situated in front of the fireplace. He hadn't had a warm bath since they had left Laredo months ago. "Thank you so much ma'am," Carlisle felt truly grateful.

"Dinner will be in an hour," she informed him closing the bedroom door behind her. Isabella nervously smiled at Jasper. "You're room," her eyes darted toward the floor, down the hall, and hesitantly back to Jasper. "It's this way."

"Whose room is this?" he asked gesturing to the door directly across from where they stood.

"That's Alice's room." She turned and took a few steps to the next door. "This will be your room."

"Is that your room?" Jasper gestured to the door opposite his.

"Yes," flames licked at her cheeks. Her hand automatically touched the side of her face. She opened the door to Jasper's room, stepping just inside the doorway. "The bed has clean linens and there's bathing linens on the chaise," she gestured to the wide upholstered piece that resembled a cross between a small sofa and a one armed chair. "There's hot water for you if you want to bathe," she could feel Jasper's eyes on her. Slowly, she raised her gaze to face him.

"Thank you," he gave her his best smile, knowing the effect it had on women. At seeing her blush again, Jasper privately thought, _Touché. _ He wondered if his smile was as disarming as the blush on her cheeks.

"I should go," whispered Isabella.

"That's probably a good idea," Jasper's tone was soft. "After months in the wild to finally see such a beautiful woman, it can be a bit disconcerting to a man."

"Major Whitlock," she casted her eyes downward, "I think you don't give yourself enough credit."

"Mrs. Swan," breathed Jasper. She was standing so close, it would be no strain at all to reach out and draw her toward him. "I don't think you realize how disarming your beauty is."

"Dinner will be in an hour," she smiled suddenly feeling shy. Without a word she closed the door. Her legs seemed to want to betray her. With a steadying breathe, she crossed the hallway and took refuge in her bedroom.

In the privacy of her room she dropped onto her bed face first. Muffled in layers of pillows and other bed linens, she let out an ecstatic scream. It was as if all the happy and glorious emotions of life were suddenly bundled and placed inside her. In all her twenty-three years, she'd never felt anything like it.

"What are you doing?" Alice's little voice invaded her private moment.

"You should knock first," Isabella sat up.

"Why are you acting strange?" asked her little sister.

"I feel like I can fly," Isabella threw her arms out, letting herself fall back onto her bed.

Alice giggled. With a running start, she leapt onto Isabella's bed. Jumping up and down, Alice pretended she could fly. On her third time coming down, Isabella reached out and grabbed Alice's legs. Alice shrieked with laughter under her sisters tickling fingers.

"I give up," gasped Alice. Isabella gave her sister a big kiss. "What does it feel like to fly?"

Isabella released her sister and rolled onto her back. "Think of your happiest memory," Isabella stared up at the ceiling. "Do you have it in your mind?"

"Yes," eagerly answered Alice.

"Take that memory and imagine a hundred more just like it at once."

"Wow," breathed Alice. She scooted closer to Isabella, snuggling next to her. "You smell good Bella," Alice inhaled her sister's scent.

"So do you," Isabella placed a kiss on her sister's head. Quietly, they each laid still lost in their thoughts. At least for a few short minutes.

"Can we eat in the barn too?" asked Alice.

"No," answered Isabella.

"Why not? The soldiers get to eat in the barn," pouted Alice.

"Because you're a girl," said Isabella.

"That's not fair. I want to eat in the barn too."

"Well, I don't."

"Why? Cause you're a looker?"

"What?" Isabella laughed.

"I heard Sergeant Black call you a looker," answered Alice. "What's a looker? Is that a grown up girl?"

"Something like that," smiled Isabella. "Come on," she stirred her sister. "Let's find something for me to wear for dinner."

"Yeah," squealed Alice. Isabella didn't have to repeat herself. Alice leapt off the bed and made a beeline to Isabella's dresses. After several minutes Isabella settled on a dinner dress. It had been her mother's. It was in the loveliest shade of blue-green. Her mother had told her it had been shipped from Spain. It had been a gift from her father.

"What do you think?" Isabella twirled for her sister.

"Beautiful," swooned Alice, watching the soft fabric twirl around Isabella's legs. "Edward won't like it," frowned Alice. The dress left Isabella's shoulders and collar bones exposed.

"Good thing Edward can't see anymore," whispered Isabella. Mischief glinted in her bright eyes. Alice's expression beamed. "It'll be our secret." Alice enthusiastically nodded. Isabella quickly swept her hair up, pinning it into place. "It's your turn now," she smiled.

Isabella stood from her chair for Alice to take a seat. Taking the brush, Isabella worked it through Alice's hair. It smelled of flowers. Earlier that day they had washed their hair in Margaret's special soap. Isabella and Alice would pick the wild flowers Margaret would need, and she would turn them into the most heavenly soaps either one of them had ever smelled.

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	5. Chapter 5

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* * *

**Texas 1857  
**Chapter Five

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"Wait here," Isabella instructed Alice. She wasn't allowed in Edward's room. She was also not allowed to be too loud. Edward didn't approve of loud conversation. Alice sat at the top of the staircase and watched as her sister entered Edward's room, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders and neck.

"Edward?" Isabella walked over to the bed where he was still laying.

"He just went to sleep ma'am," whispered Laurent. Isabella met his large tawny eyes. Edward had purchased Laurent and his mother when Laurent was a baby. His long and slender features gave him an effeminate appearance. Since Edward had fallen gravely ill, Laurent had become his full time caretaker.

"I'll stop by after dinner," smiled Isabella.

"When he wakes I'll let him know," Laurent's voice was soft as a woman's.

"Has Margaret brought you dinner yet?" asked Isabella.

"Yes ma'am," smiled Laurent.

"I hope she gave you plenty," Isabella studied his thin frame. "We need to plump you up a bit." Laurent let out a soft laugh.

"She gave me plenty, more than I was able to finish actually."

"Good," smiled Isabella. "I better get back to our guests."

"Good evening ma'am." Laurent escorted Isabella to the door, quietly closing it behind her.

"Ready?" Isabella reached for Alice's hand. She was sitting at the top of the stairs waiting for Isabella.

"I'm hungry," replied Alice.

"Well then let's go eat," smiled Isabella. With her sister by her side, she made her way down the stair case. At the bottom she discarded her shawl, draping it over the banister. As they turned the corner, her shawl slid down, pooling gently onto the floor.

"You look very pretty Bella," smiled Alice. "When I'm a _looker_ I hope I'm as pretty as you."

"You already are sweetheart," Isabella squeezed Alice's hand, biting back her laughter. Taking a deep breath Isabella steadied herself before entering the parlor. Both men stood when Bella and Alice entered the room.

Jasper stood so quickly, his chair slid back more forcefully than he'd planned. Isabella's presence unsteadied him. His entire life he'd done things by the book. If _A _or_ B _were expected, Jasper was the ideal model. He took great pride in modeling the epitome of discipline. Blessed with charisma and amazing instincts, Jasper learned to moderate these gifts, use them to his best advantage. Even if it meant denying himself certain pleasures of life, he would do it if it would make him a better leader. This made him a perfect soldier.

As such, he would have never imagined that it would be this delicate flower, Isabella Swan, which threatened the ideal he strived to achieve. His instincts battled fiercely against his rational mind. Rarely had he desired something that was forbidden, and in the exceptional cases that he had, as the master of his own will, Jasper tamed the beast within. Now, for the first time in his career, he found himself losing his mind, inching to the edge ready to throw decorum to the wind.

"Good evening Mrs. Swan," smiled Carlisle.

"Please, Isabella," she insisted. "We're friends now."

"Isabella you're breathtaking," stated Carlisle. "As are you young lady." He smiled at Alice earning himself a dinner partner for the evening.

"If you gentleman are ready, shall we," she invited them to enter the dining room.

"Major Whitlock." Isabella felt her chest quiver.

"Mrs. Swan." Jasper was the senior ranking officer in the room, and thus was honored with escorting their hostess. He offered her his arm.

"Thank you." Isabella lowered her gaze not daring to stare to long into his eyes. Jasper escorted her into the dining room, followed by Carlisle and Alice. Jasper pulled out the chair at the head of the table for Isabella, then took the seat next to her.

Over dinner, Carlisle provided them with lively conversation. Several times Isabella thought she may have hurt herself from laughing so much. There was a comfortable confidence about Carlisle that she enjoyed tremendously. With Jasper so close, she welcomed the distraction Carlisle offered. By the time dinner was over, she had learned he was married to Esme Platt, how he had become a doctor, and about his three year old son Emmett.

When they moved to the parlor, she sat attentively as Jasper shared with her stories about his family, how they lived about a two day's ride from her farm, his father's cattle ranch, and why he had joined the Army. Isabella's eyes eagerly took in every detail of Jasper's handsome face; the fullness of his bottom lip that was framed by the short soft whiskers of his beard; the four different shades of blue in his eyes. She even noticed how he had three smiles, depending on the subject he was talking about and how he was feeling.

Shortly after Jasper finished telling Isabella and Alice how he and Carlisle first met, Margaret stepped into the parlor. Her appearance signaled that it was time for Alice to get ready for bed.

"Agh," grunted Alice. "Can't I stay up late?"

"I'm sorry mi amor. I'll be up in a little while to tuck you in."

"Fine," Alice glowered. "Good night Lieutenant Cullen," Alice gave him a big hug. On her way out she stopped by Jasper. "Thank you for letting me brush your horse."

"Maybe tomorrow, if your mother gives you permission, you can brush him again."

Alice giggled, "Bella's not my mom." With a grin she looked over at Isabella. "She's my sister."

"Oh," breathed Jasper.

"Good night Major," Alice leaned forward and gave him a hug. "I liked your stories."

"Happy dreams Alice," he patted her on the back.

"Don't forget to tuck me in," Alice gave her sister a pointed look.

"I won't," smiled Isabella. Satisfied that her big sister wouldn't forget, Alice took Margaret's hand, submitting to her bedtime routine.

"You did seem a bit young to have a nine year old daughter," admitted Carlisle once Alice and Margaret were gone.

"I'm the only mother she knows," sadly admitted Isabella. "Our mother died when Alice was an infant."

"I'm sorry," everything in Carlisle's voice and expression was sincere. "You've done a wonderful job raising her. She seems very happy and bright."

"Thank you," smiled Isabella. "She's been my solace and my sunshine." Carlisle was visibly touched at seeing the affection for the child in Isabella's eyes. "If you'd like to see the library, I can show you before I retire for the evening."

"Yes, please," Carlisle stood up offering his arm to Isabella. With his help, she stood and escorted the men into Edward's library.

"Before he lost his sight," explained Isabella, "my husband was an avid reader."

"I can tell," Carlisle scanned the shelves.

"Please help yourself to any book," smiled Isabella. "If you both will pardon me, I must excuse myself."

"It was a pleasure," Carlisle took Isabella's hand to his lips. "You were absolutely delightful. Thank you Isabella for your generosity."

"It was all my pleasure, I assure you," she smiled.

"I think I'll call it a night as well," stated Jasper. "If I may, I would be honored to escort you."

"Well," she breathed. "Thank you Major Whitlock. Good night Carlisle," Isabella gave him one more smile before leaving him alone in the library.

Silently, Jasper escorted her through the corridor and to the staircase.

"I hope you find your accommodations comfortable," Isabella's voice was soft and gentle.

"Yes," his reply rushed out. "It's more than perfect."

"I'm glad to hear that," smiled Isabella, taking the steps slowly.

"It's been months since I've had a warm place to rest my head."

"How long has it been since you left Laredo?"

"Seven months two and half weeks," answered Jasper.

"You're wife I'm sure will be happy to have you home safe."

"I'm not married."

"Oh," she breathed. Her glee at his revelation gave her pause. Isabella silently reprimanded herself for feeling such a sigh of relief at the Major being unattached. Jasper's chest fluttered at seeing the blush in Isabella's cheeks again. "Will you be heading out in the morning?" she asked.

"If the roads are too wet, I'm afraid we'll have to press upon your hospitality a few more days if you don't mind."

"I don't mind," she admitted. "I enjoy the company."

At the top of the staircase they paused. Edward's bedroom door was open, which meant he was up.

"I need to check on my husband."

"Yes, of course. Please let him know how grateful we are for his kindness."

"I will," smiled Isabella, remaining still. Quietly, they both stood, neither wanting their private moment to end. Eventually, Isabella broke their silence. "Good night Major Whitlock," she bowed her head and moved toward Edward's open door.

"Isabella," Jasper's hand reached out to her, taking her hand before he realized what he'd done. An electrical charge arced through them both. Not only had he said her name, but they were now touching. Their gaze met. Wonder and shock evident in their eyes. Jasper could hear Isabella's breath. Her chest moved in tempo with each of her inhalation.

"Yes," she managed to whisper.

"Carlisle is right," his voice caught in the back of his throat. "You're a vision." Isabella blushed. "As beautiful as your dress is, it pales to your beauty."

"Thank you, Major."

"Well," he released her hand, instantly missing the contact. "Good night."

"Good night," she breathed. Hesitantly, she turned and entered Edward's room. Jasper knew he should continue down the hall, but he couldn't. His feet were nailed to the floor. With his eyes, he followed her movements. He could barely make out the profile of the man sitting in the chair. Isabella knelt on the floor next to the arm chair.

"Come closer," directed her husband. Isabella had to strain to hear him. His voice was dry and hoarse.

"What is it Edward?" she asked, leaning forward. He reached out with his hand, touching her cheek.

"I may be blind, but I'm not deaf," he growled.

Without warning, he slapped Isabella. She hadn't been prepared to receive his blow. The surprise knocked her off balance. She fell, catching herself before her face hit the floor. The stinging pain on the side of her face caused tears to well in her eyes.

"Get back here," he demanded. The venom in his voice made her tremble with fear and hate. Isabella glanced up and saw Jasper's eyes fill with rage.

In a blink he was steps from her.

Jasper was ready to beat her husband inches from his death. Isabella urgently shook her head, throwing her hand up in the air for him to stop. His involvement would only escalate the situation. Jasper stopped in midstride. Trapped in her gaze, he could see her silently pleading for him to leave.

His chest heaved with the restraint that it took to keep from moving forward. Jasper clinched his jaw.

_Please go, _Isabella's lips quietly pleaded with him.

Jasper fisted his hands.

His entire body vibrated with rage. Reluctantly, he turned and walked out. He couldn't bear not to act, but she didn't want him to save her. Defeated by her silent pleas, he took the stairs down not stopping when he reached the bottom. He continued out the front door, off the porch, and into the rainstorm.

"I said come here," growled Edward. Isabella returned and knelt next to him. From years of conditioning, she no longer resisted him; outwardly at least. When his next blow came, she was ready for it.

The side of her face stung. She swallowed the sounds threatening to escape between her clinched teeth. She stilled herself as he ran his hand up her bare arm and across her bare shoulders. She had forgotten about her shawl.

With the last of his energy fueled by his rage, Edward slapped her again. His blow drew blood. She couldn't hold back the pain. Whimpering, she knelt in front of him again.

"I won't have my wife parading around like a whore," he spat. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I'm sorry Edward," her voice trembled. "It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," Edward slumped back into his chair. He had exerted the last of his energy punishing Isabella. "Go clean yourself."

"Yes," she stood up on shaky legs. Laurent avoided her eyes, attempting to give Isabella as much dignity as he could. "Good night Edward." He dismissed her with a huff. Isabella made her way into the hallway, escaping into her bedroom.

In the privacy of her room, she worked at pulling herself together. Hatred and pity for her husband waged a war inside her. She was in limbo, trapped between competing emotions; tears, shame, embarrassment, rage, pain of heart and soul, responsibility.

It took several long moments for her hands to stop trembling. When she was certain her legs were steady enough, she went to her vanity. In front of the mirror, Isabella carefully inspected the side of her face. Her cheek was red, but luckily she would be spared any bruises. Gingerly, she inspected the inside of her lip. Edward's last blow had created a tiny gash on the inside.

Isabella stepped away from the mirror and went to stand in front of the open armoire. Away from her reflection, she began to remove her mother's dress. She was thankful that Edward hadn't attempted to tear it. There were a lot of things she could endure, but she wouldn't be able to bear losing her mother's dress. It was one of the last possessions that linked Isabella to her.

Lovingly, Isabella placed her mother's dress on its hanger and back into its place in the cabinet. With nothing on, she crossed her room to where her night dress was draped over the chair. She slipped it over her head, allowing it to fall over her body, covering her nudity.

As she continued to go through her bedtime routine, her thoughts were preoccupied with Jasper. _What must he think of me?_ She was certain that he hated her. Sometimes she hated herself, so how could he not.

Leaning over the water bowl, she splashed her face with cold water, allowing it to wash away the bad feelings festering inside her. Goosebumps spread over her skin as she began to clean herself with the wash cloth. She focused on the chill of her damp skin, trying to will away the need to cry.

Tears would have to wait until after she tucked Alice in. If her eyes were red or swollen, Alice would worry, and Isabella didn't want to make her anxious. She had to protect Alice from Edward's ugliness.

It was several minutes later, her hair brushed and her small robe tied around her torso, that she finally opened her door. Looking around, the dark hallway was clear. With her candle in hand, she padded to her sister's room. Very carefully, she opened Alice's door.

The moment Isabella saw her little sister waiting for her with love in her eyes, all the ugliness she'd endured faded away. With an affectionate smile, Isabella crawled into bed with Alice. She wrapped her in her arms, and recalled out loud one of Alice's favorite stories about their mother and father.

Isabella promised her that one day, they would travel to their family's old land and she would show her the home where their father had been born, and his father.

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	6. Chapter 6

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**Texas 1857  
**Chapter Six

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Outside, the rain was relentless. It fell over Jasper's head and shoulders in thick sheets, turning his caramel and wheat colored hair as dark as his mood. Stepping off the porch, he marched into the night.

His eyes narrowed on the barn. A sliver of light filtered out from around the barn doors. As Jasper passed the barn, he could hear the bellowing laughter of his Sergeant. Though Jacob hadn't done anything to him, Jasper had the urge to punch him.

He vibrated with rage. The raw memory of Isabella being struck haunted him.

Instantly the dark landscape around him was lit with a flash of light. Seconds later, the cracking wipe of lightening tore through the sound of the rain beating against the ground. Not missing a step, Jasper continued marching into the darkness. If he stopped moving he knew he'd rush back into the house, up the staircase, and into that room. He would cheat the illness working at ending Isabella's husband's life, and he'd finish him off himself.

Every muscle in Jasper's body screamed with protest at him for walking away.

When he saw her fall, in a flash his instinct to protect and defend her, took over. He was only a few feet from doing that when her eyes stopped him in his track.

_Those eyes, _he lamented. The depths in her dark expressive eyes could drown a man.

Despite everything in him telling him not to, he did what she asked him; he turned and walked away. It had been the hardest thing he'd ever done. Even when he and his men had been ambushed, surrounded by attacking Comanche's, an arrow in his thigh, it couldn't compare to what he had to endure now.

The pouring rain blinded him, but he kept walking into the darkness, each step taking him farther away from the house, and further into the dangers of the Texas wilderness.

Another flash of light streaked across the dark sky. Moments later another cracking wipe pierced the night. Under his feet he felt the earth rumble in anguish. Lightening had struck close by, but it didn't deter him. Jasper continued marching through the rain.

Surrounded by nothing but open space, every expletive he'd ever learned sprayed from his lips, eventually cursing God. His mind and heart waged a bloody battle inside him. He knew it was wrong to want another man's wife. But since arriving he couldn't stop thinking about her. As he'd given his men instructions, he thought of her. As he looked after Allegro, he thought of her. As he answered Alice's stream of questions, he thought of her. As each reviewed his orders again, he thought of her. As Nathanial informed him that Margaret would wash his uniform, he thought of her. As he bathed, he thought of her.

Despite only just meeting her, somehow she had embedded herself in him. All she had to do was ask and Jasper knew he would give up the Army for her. He'd protect her. Shelter her from anything and anyone who would harm her. Even from her husband.

For several hours Jasper wondered aimlessly in the dark cold until the last of his rage trickled out.

Wearily, he turned around not sure if he would even be able to find his way. The stars and moon were nowhere in sight. He was left to navigate the pitch darkness with no help.

Farther into the night, at the Swan Plantation, the rain continued beating against the main house. Inside, Isabella leaned forward and gently placed a kiss on Alice's forehead. With all the excitement stirred by their guests, it had taken Alice longer than usual to fall asleep. Two stories and several songs later, she had finally settled peacefully to sleep.

Isabella quietly slid out of Alice's bed and out of her bedroom. The candle in Isabella's hand illuminated her path as she quietly padded down the hall. Her eyes stilled on the door to Jasper's room. In a flash, she felt a pang in her chest. Dropping her gaze she turned, stepping into her room.

Alone at last, she muffled her tears against her pillows. After nine years of living with Edward, she had learned how to survive his fits. The tears she sometimes shed had always been from the pain and hurt. But the tears she cried now were not from the pain and hurt she felt at being struck.

It was one thing for Laurent and the others to hear and witness Edward's cruelty toward her over the years; it was an entirely different matter to have had Jasper witness it. She feared what he would think of her. She feared what she would see in his eyes; if he would shun her. Though she knew it was wrong to want another man's attention, she missed the glances and the smiles he would no longer share with her because of tonight.

Slowly, the pang in her chest gradually faded as the weight of the last nine years pulled her to sleep. Her dreamless oblivion provided even if only for a few hours some solace for her soul.

Outside in the dark raining night, exhausted, Jasper realized he would have to wait out the night until morning. He'd been wondering in the dark with no reference point to guide him back in the right direction. Mud weighted his boots down, making each step he took labored. Swaying in his boots, he decided to stop, feeling himself sink into the mud. Just then, several flashes of light streaked across the sky revealing the main house along with a few other outbuildings. Jasper was only yards away.

Under the momentary light, he'd also noticed a large figure entering the back of the main house. Jasper's eyes narrowed, but the dark reclaimed the landscape. Turning his attention to his legs, he bent over using his hands to pull free his left leg.

_Shit,_ he grumbled silently hitting the earth hard with his ass.

While he struggled to free himself from the mud, inside Nathanial shook the rain off his back. His chest heaved as his lungs gasped for air. Running through the rain in mud had left him winded. He was built for brute force not sprinting.

Quickly he removed his boots. With his lantern in one hand, he made his way up the staircase. Even with the rain patting forcefully against the house, Nathanial felt his breathing was as loud as a strong wind. Inside his ears, he could hear his heart pounding in his chest.

Reaching his destination, he rasped lightly on the door. After a few tries and still nothing, he opened the bedroom door. Holding up the lantern, he could see her back was toward him. Without hesitating he sat the lantern down on the bedside table.

"Isabella," the baritone quality of his voice even made his whisper sound as big as he was in size. He leaned forward, his hand on her shoulder, and with a few short movements he tried to wake her. "Ms. Bella," he shook her more firmly.

"What is it?" her voice groggy, she turned her eyes squinting to adjust to the light in her room. "Nathanial? What's wrong?"

"It's Stefan."

The bleariness Isabella had felt in her mind from being pulled from her sleep, cleared. With one smooth motion Isabella threw back the covers and was on her feet in a flash.

"Take me to him." Her eyes shot to the hook on her bedroom door where she kept her shawl. The memory from earlier that evening flashed across her mind. She quickly swatted it away. There were more important matters to deal with. It had been several long months since she had received any news of her childhood friend.

Isabella reached into her drawer and pulled out a pair of socks. Nathanial stood quietly next to the door as she laced up her boots. There was no time to change out of her sleeping gown.

"My shawl is downstairs," she told Nathanial as he opened the door for her. With Nathanial taking the lead, Isabella followed him down the stairs. Turning the corner at the bottom, she searched for her shawl, finding it on the floor next to the railing. She wrapped it around herself.

When they reached the kitchen, Nathanial sat the lantern down, rummaging through one of the cabinets.

"What are you doing?" asked Isabella. A moment later he held under his arm Isabella's medicinal box she kept for emergencies. Isabella's heart stopped. Immediately she realized the condition she would find Stefan when she arrived.

"It's raining something fierce out there," Nathanial warned her pulling on his muddy boots.

"Let's go." Seeing Isabella's steady gaze Nathanial nodded and opened the back door.

Under any other circumstances he would have insisted she wore something more appropriate for the weather.

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	7. Chapter 7

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**

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**

**Texas 1857  
**Chapter Seven

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"What's going on?" Jasper's voice startled them both. Isabella yelped. Though she couldn't see him, she recognized his voice.

"This doesn't concern you," she shot out. Nathanial held up the lantern in the direction that the voice came from. A moment later Jasper stepped into the light. Isabella's heart tumbled inside her chest. "Do what you please," she avoided his eyes. "I don't have time for this." She didn't wait for a reply.

Nathanial hesitated, his eyes quickly darted between the Major and Isabella. It took less than a blink for him to make a decision. He hurried to catch up with Isabella.

Without a word, Jasper came up behind her, taking her elbow and bracing her with his hand. Nathanial smirked at the dubious expression he saw on Isabella's face. Silently, they followed Nathanial as he led them between several outbuildings and farther onto the property where the slave quarters were located.

"Isabella," Margaret's strained voice greeted her when they crowded into the small cabin.

"Let me see him," Isabella took her box from Nathanial. Margaret nodded moving so that Isabella could walk past her.

Behind the drawn sheets, Isabella found her dear friend laying on a bed of hay and blankets. "Stefan," she whispered, leaning over him.

"Me quería," Stefan's voice faltered. The spark she remembered in his green eyes was missing. She had to find out what happened to him.

"¿Qué te ha pasado Stefan?"

He let out a strained chuckle. That was the million dollar question, _what was wrong with him? _"Me enamoré con un ángel…" his weak voice faded out. Isabella's brow wrinkled. What did falling in love with an angel have to do with anything?

"Stefan?"

"Era tan hermoso," he rasped. Immediately Isabella wondered if this handsome man Stefan spoke of had hurt her friend. "You would have loved him," Stefan coughed weakly.

"Stefan, estás hablando tonterías." He was talking nonsense. Isabella had no idea what he was talking about or what falling in love with an angel who was handsome had to do with what was wrong with him. Carefully, she pulled down the blanket covering him. "Oh Stefan," she cried. "¿Mijo, qué tipo de trouble te metistes in?" Isabella's thoughts were on overdrive trying to imagine what trouble Stefan had gotten himself involved in.

"Todo is fine," breathed Stefan.

_How could everything be fine?_

"Here you go Isabella," Margaret's hands were full with a pot of hot water and a stack of linens torn into strips. Isabella nodded for Margaret to set the items next to her. Removing her wet shawl from off her shoulders, Isabella's eyes went back to the bloodied strips of cloth already covering his abdomen.

Wiping the raindrops from her face, Isabella leaned forward and gingerly removed the bandage. A large red fleshy gash was located on the side of his abdomen. Isabella wasn't too familiar with blade wounds, but by the shape of the gash it looked like it was created by a large carving knife.

"I'll go get the doc," stated Jasper.

"No," Isabella glanced up, meeting Jasper's eyes for the first time since Edward's room. Instantly she dropped her gaze. She was afraid of any change in his eyes that she might see.

"He'll die if he doesn't have a doctor look at him." Jasper had seen enough wounds in his time fighting Indians to recognize a potentially fatal injury.

"No," Stefan blurted. "No white man's medicine," he choked out.

"Come Major," Margaret gently prodded Jasper onto the other side of the makeshift curtain. Over Margaret's coiffed head, Jasper could see Isabella laying out an array of both strange and familiar implements.

"Leave them be," Margaret gently ordered.

"What is she doing?" Jasper asked as he registered a soothing fragrance rising from above the drawn sheets.

"They call it curandero," somberly stated Nathanial. Jasper's eyes darted toward the big hulking man. He recognized the term, but he'd always associated it with witchcraft.

"Sit Major." Jasper sat in the chair Margaret offered him. "She's a healer," she explained. "Her mother was a healer and so is Isabella."

"Mr. Swan forbids her to practice," Nathanial stared down at Jasper, sizing him up as to his trustworthiness.

"Folks sometimes make their way up here looking for her help," said Margaret. "You should probably get out of that wet uniform Major." Margaret stood and searched through some drawers. Returning, she offered him a clean men's shirt.

"You," she stared at her husband, "should probably get into some dry clothes as well."

"Whatever for," he huffed. "I'll be getting wet again when I takes her back."

"I'll take her back," stated Jasper.

"Go on," Margaret told her husband. "Major," she softened her voice. "You can change out of your shirt behind that screen." Margaret gestured to the opposite side of the room.

Jasper followed her direction. Behind the screen he removed his top coat and shirt. He slipped the dry shirt over his head before returning to sit at the table again. He could feel the hem already growing damp from coming in contact with his wet trousers.

"Let me take those," Margaret reached for his top coat and wet shirt. "I'll hang them out next to the fire."

"Thank you," Jasper nodded to her. Sitting in the chair his attention was fixed on Isabella's obscured silhouette, watching her moving about over what he knew was the man. "Do you know what happened to him exactly?"

"No sir," rumbled Nathanial. "He went missing some months passed. Out of the blue he gone showed up here this evening asking for Ms. Isabella."

"This should warm you up," said Margaret. Jasper's attention was drawn to the black woman handing him a cup. Margaret gave him a warm smile and a cup of hot coffee with a few generous drops of whisky.

"Thank you," Jasper nodded his head. Margaret disappeared momentarily behind the curtain, returning with Isabella's shawl. Jasper watched the older black woman drape Bella's shawl next to his own drying coat and shirt.

"Last I heard he got himself mixed up with some German Immigrant's son named Val," Nathanial raised his hand to take the cup his wife offered him. "Thank you Mrs." Margaret gave her husband an appreciative glance. "I had a feelin' about them two. Them running off together. It was only goin' to lead to a big heap of trouble if you asked me."

"Why's that?" inquired Jasper.

"He likes the man folk, if you catch my meaning," answered Nathanial. Jasper indeed understood the big man's meaning.

Several long minutes passed. Jasper was nursing his second cup of coffee. Nathanial had gone to sleep, and Margaret's arms were curled on the table with her head resting on them. Jasper rubbed his face. Almost an hour had passed since they arrived.

The soothing sounds coming from Isabella were too faint for Jasper to make out. He'd waited long enough. His curiosity was too much. Quietly, he walked over behind the drawn sheets where Isabella was. His tired heart sped when she turned and met his gaze. The smile in her eyes alone made him feel like he'd died and gone to heaven. Her hair had begun to dry in long wavy sections.

"Is he going to pull through?" asked Jasper.

"Yes," she whispered. "I think so."

"What are you doing?" he asked her, his eyes fixed on her fingers as she dabbed something on the inside of Stefan's wrists, temples, forehead, and chest. Briefly, Jasper wondered what her fingers would feel like across his chest.

"I'm praying for him," her soft voice pulled him from his thoughts. "The fleshly wound will heal. It's the wound to his soul that I'm afraid won't."

Jasper's eyes trailed her elegant profile. He didn't see the rosary in her hands, until he noticed her lips gently moving. Instinctively, he bowed his head for a few short moments until he raised his gaze to find her. She was so beautiful. The glow of the lanterns behind her gave her a powder soft appearance.

"He should sleep well tonight," Isabella's voice was just above a whisper. "I'll come by tomorrow and check on him."

Quietly, Jasper watched as she gathered her small bottles and other small do-hickies into the box.

"I'm almost ready," Isabella informed him, standing to her feet, her hands rubbing her lower back.

Jasper's breath caught in the back of his throat.

The lantern behind her revealed the outline of her curves. He should have turned away, but he couldn't. He'd seen his fair share of billiard girls, but he'd never seen a Lady nude before, and he wondered if Isabella was soft. For a fraction he imagined what the scent of her skin would be like. His eyes slowly traveled up the outline of her legs, to the curve between her thighs, and slowly finding his way to her eyes. For a moment he felt himself lost in their warm depths.

"Major?" Isabella blushed under the intensity of his gaze. Her breath quivered.

"Let me help you with that," Jasper cleared his throat. He took the pot filled with red water and rags. "What do you want me to do with this?" he asked Margaret who was standing when they came around the curtain.

"I'll take care of it in the morning," she yawned.

"Thank you for taking him in," Isabella hugged the woman. "I'll be back to check on him tomorrow."

"We'll send word if he takes a turn for the worst," Margaret reassured her.

Isabella took her dried shawl and began to drape it around herself.

"Here," Jasper took his top coat, which had almost dried to the touch, and wrapped it around Isabella's shoulders.

"What about you?" she asked.

"I'll be fine," he fastened a few clasps so that the coat would stay on.

"It's warm," she nervously whispered as she glanced up at him. Jasper smiled. She looked so small and delicate. His coat practically swallowed her.

In that instant, in the depths of Jasper's being, he felt Isabella's husband, by touching her the way he had, had relinquished his claim on her. Jasper was going to love her, and her husband could go to hell.

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	8. Chapter 8

**WARNING:** _This chapter contains strong but non-explicit adult themes that are not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16._

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**Texas 1857  
**Chapter Eight

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"Be careful now," Margaret handed the lantern to Jasper. "The path tends to flood on nights like tonight," she warned.

"We'll be cautious," Jasper assured the older woman, taking the lantern. "Good night."

Margaret stood at the open door and watched the young couple walk into the night. She liked the Major. The obvious affection in his eyes every time he looked at Bella had not gone past her notice. She hoped the storm would delay his departure for a few days. Her mistress had never known the adoration of a man's touch. That all encompassing happiness was something that she felt Isabella deserved; even for a moment. And if the Major was willing to be the one to show Isabella, who was Margaret to disapprove?

Taking his arm, Isabella allowed Jasper to guide her through the night.

Navigating by memory, he followed the same trail Nathanial had brought them down. Though the rain was still coming down steadily it had let up, making visibility somewhat easier. For a long stretch of time, they walked in relative silence. Though he kept his eyes forward, he was keenly aware of Isabella at his side.

In the privacy of his mind, Jasper was busy working out his strategy. He was inexperienced in the protocol of indiscretions. He had never led a Lady in to one before. A twinge of guilt pricked at the edges of his moral code. Chancing a glance he looked over at Isabella. She trusted him; was allowing him to escort her home. And here he was trying to work out how to seduce her.

It didn't bode well that he was more confident at planning and fighting a war than in seducing a woman.

_It can't be too difficult? _he contemplated. _Use what you know,_ he decided. He was a brilliant military strategist. _Identify the objective, _he told himself. One of the principals of war was to have a clearly defined, decisive, and attainable objective. _Isabella,_ he silently breathed. She was a vast land and he was going to conjure her.

_Unity of Command, _he quietly recited another strategy. _Well,_ he cleared his mind. Internally there was still some disunity. His moral compass wasn't quite on board. _Yet,_ he silently thought. He decided that for now that was good enough. He quickly determined that he had Mass and Economy of Force on his side. For at the moment, they were alone with the exception of some trees and a spattering of outbuildings. He definitely had her at a disadvantage even if he hadn't actually maneuvered tonight's events to bring about their current situation. _Nonetheless, _he thought. The circumstance gave him the clear advantage.

However, technically he didn't have Simplicity on his side. The decision to seduce another man's wife was about as complicated as he thought it could get. _But,_ he added. He did have Surprise on his side. He could take the Offensive right now and seize what he wanted.

Occupied with this internal dialogue, Jasper was oblivious to Isabella's frequent glances. She wasn't sure what was happening inside his mind, but it was obvious he was thinking very hard on something very serious. The dreaded realization that he was remembering what happened in the house after dinner surfaced. However, Isabella pushed it away. She was almost certain that he did not think ill of her. There had been moments in the cabin when he'd trapped her in that gaze.

_Those eyes¸ _she lamented. There was a searing intensity in his multicolored blue eyes that made her stir in ways that confused her and made her soar all at once.

Slowly, her eyes trailed back to his face. She admired the way he kept his beard clean. The way it framed and accentuated his mouth.

Unaware of Isabella's attention, he unconsciously bit at his lower lip.

_It's probably soft and ripe,_ she thought, _like a warm plump grape_. A smile pulled gently on the corners of her lips. _The Southern Banner_, she mused, should publish an article on men's beards.

_The Southern Banner_ published articles on the proper etiquette for Southern men and women. Edward had made sure she had a copy of each edition. Isabella thought that the uppity publishers, who felt it their obligation to tell others how to behave, should publish an article on not just any man's beard, but on Jasper's beard to be precise. There was something about his short tawny blonde beard that enticed her toward wantonness.

Tentatively, she returned her gaze to him again. Jasper was still somewhere inside his mind, but that was perfectly acceptable to Isabella. It gave her the opportunity to admire him by the light of the lantern. Her eyes went to the center of soft hair. She had an urge to flick her tongue over the sensitive plump skin.

Biting her own lip, she turned away with a blush on her cheeks.

"Hold on," Jasper instructed. The path they were on had washed out just a few feet in front of them. Isabella stopped. Standing perfectly still, she watched Jasper disappear into the dark. She should have been afraid to be alone, but she wasn't. This was a path since Edward had fallen gravely ill that she had taken often with Nathanial in order to see the people who would come seeking her for help.

Several short minutes passed before Isabella caught the light of Jasper's lantern. He'd scouted and spotted a safer path that would take them around the damaged area. As he got closer to where he left Isabella, she soon came into his view. A smile spread across his face at seeing her exactly in the same position he'd left her in.

He stopped in front of her, pulling her into his gaze. By the light of the lantern, he admired the blush on her cheeks and the flames that flickered behind her soulful eyes.

"Did you find a way?" she asked, attempting to lessen the tension she felt. Jasper's eyes traveled along the delicate features of her face, pausing over the cheek where she had been struck.

"Are you alright?" he whispered.

A sick feeling, a hardening in the pit of her stomach, on queue inflicted her as the memory of Jasper seeing her struck by Edward flashed across her mind.

"Yes," she breathed unable to avoid his gaze.

"You shouldn't have asked me to walk away."

Isabella shifted uncomfortably.

"What would you have done?" she asked. "He's an old and bitter man who's dying."

"No one should touch a woman like that," stated Jasper.

"And you don't think I don't know that?" the bitterness in her voice was noticeable. "You're leaving. I'm staying."

"You don't have to stay."

Isabella let out a soft puff of air, nodding her head side-to-side. "Of course," her tone was clearly sarcastic, "a woman with no property, no allowance, and a child in tow – the opportunities are boundless."

"You could leave with me," the thought slipped out. The realization of what he said, hit him when Isabella's eyes widened. She was a married woman. Married women who ran off with another man were things that respectable society frowned on.

They could both leave, he quickly contemplated. He could abandon his Army post and they could cross the border into Mexico.

"As you're concubine?" she spat the words out sharply, surprising herself. "I don't think so Major Whitlock." Despite knowing that it probably wasn't such a great idea, she started walking, making her way through the dark woods.

"Isabella," Jasper followed after her. "That's not what I meant. I could help you," he quickly added, realizing he had lost his tactical advantage. "It wouldn't be a burden. I could help you and Alice start over again." Isabella kept walking almost slipping a few times up the grassy wet incline.

"I don't need to be rescued."

"Damn it," Jasper spat. Isabella stopped and turned. But Jasper was gone. Her eyes trailed down from where he should have been and toward the ground. Despite having been upset at Jasper's presumptuousness that she needed rescuing, she started giggling. The ever proper Major Whitlock was on his back. He had slipped attempting to climb the wet grassy incline. The lantern tumbled to his side, its light going dim.

Isabella's laugh was infectious. It took her a few moments to gain her composure, which faltered every time Jasper wavered in his attempt to get up. He finally surrendered. Laying still, he stared up at the night sky.

"Debo dejar de aqui," Isabella stood over him, her hands on her hips. She was tempted to just leave him there.

"But you won't," answered Jasper understanding every word she had said to him. Carefully, he sat up. Glancing up at her, he raised his hand to her. Isabella took all of a few seconds to think about it. She leaned forward and took his hand.

"Agh," she gasped.

He surprised her. Drawing her to her knees, she was mere inches from his warm and ripe lips. Though she knew being close enough to feel another man's breath on her was inappropriate, she didn't care. _The Southern Banner_ should forbid Major Jasper Whitlock from wearing a beard. Hesitantly, she inched forward.

Jasper's grin disappeared. Instantly he felt his nerves wind-up tightly. All the strategizing he'd done evaporated.

_Just one kiss, _she told herself. _It didn't have to mean anything._ If she kissed him, just this once, and never did it again, what harm would that be? He was leaving.

Meeting his eyes, Isabella searched for any sign that would tell her he would disapprove. Finding nothing but those eyes, she kissed him.

A spark ignited.

Without hesitation Jasper kissed her back.

His hands slid beneath his coat she wore, traveling up the sides of her waist and pressing his hands against the small of her back. Drawing her tightly, she knelt over him, her hands on each side of his beard as their tongues engaged in an elaborate ballet.

It was exquisite.

Jasper tasted of coffee and a hint of whisky. But it was more than Jasper's taste that was different. The sweet and delicious feelings his tongue created made her body sing.

This was what a kiss was meant to be.

An eternity passed, as Jasper explored the terrain of her silky mouth.

She was all fire.

His fingers gingerly gathered the fabric of her gown. Inch by slow inch. The hem moved until he was able to glide his hands under the fabric, caressing the soft flesh beneath.

Isabella gasped. A powerful sensation, desire, rushed through her. She leaned away from Jasper enough to stare at his face. Her body screamed to arch into his touch. Hunger burned at her core. She gazed down at him, her eyes wide with surprise and yearning. Jasper immediately feared he'd gone too far; farther than she was ready for. He lowered his hands.

Breathless, Isabella watched Jasper draw her away, rising to his feet. She was confused. Did he regret it? Did he not find her desirable? She was inexperienced in the arts of pleasuring a man. Had she kissed him wrong? Without a word, Jasper helped Isabella to her feet.

"Did I do something wrong?" she quietly asked.

"No," he answered. "I'm sorry," he was remorseful. Jasper leaned over and picked up the lantern.

Misunderstanding him, a wave of rejection swept her away.

"You don't have to apologize," she braced herself, resisting the urge to cry. Though she was wrapped in his top coat, she might as well have been bare. She felt so vulnerable. What had she done?

"I…" his voice faded.

Though it was dark, the dim light of the lantern was enough that Jasper saw the hurt ripple across her beautiful face. Had he hurt her?

"Please forgive me." His words came out hurried.

"It was my fault," she rambled. "It was presumptuous of me. I was gravely wrong to take advantage of your kindness. I pray for your discretion."

"What?" Jasper stared at her confused.

"I was wanton and offended you—" Jasper handed her the lantern. Before she could finish her thought he swept her up into his arms. Turning, he headed along the path he had scouted minutes ago. Quietly, with his arms firmly supporting her, he walked them back to the main house.

Once inside, Jasper carried her up the stairs and past Edward's closed door, and to his room.

"What are you doing?" she asked nervously.

"I'm going to make love to you."

Isabella quivered with anticipation.

"If you don't want me to, say so now."

Isabella's throat constricted.

That night, under Jasper's guidance, she sang the song of a woman in ecstasy.

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	9. Chapter 9

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**Texas, 1857  
**Chapter Nine

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"Good morning," Carlisle greeted his friend. Having stayed up late reading in the library, he had retired well into the night. Just as he had settled into his warm bed, Carlisle had heard the unmistakable tremulous cries of a woman nearing her zenith.

There was no doubt in Carlisle's mind _who_ that woman was.

The only females their free time had allowed them to meet had been Margaret, Isabella, and Alice. Of these options and knowing the undeniable attraction between their hostess and his friend, Carlisle was certain it was Isabella he had heard.

He was also certain, given the fact that the hauntingly sensual sound was coming from the wall opposite of their hostess' husband's room, that the very thing he had suspected would happen between Jasper and Isabella, given the circumstances, had come true.

"Mornin'," Jasper replied. He scanned the dining room, looking for her. Carlisle was alone. No Isabella. Just as Jasper had fallen asleep, he had looked forward to waking up with Isabella in his arms. Instead, he had woken up alone. Jasper concealed his disappointment. "How did you find your quarters?" he asked his friend.

"Warm and comfortable thank you," smiled Carlisle. "And you?"

"Good." Jasper sat down at the table and helped himself to the small banquet spread out for them. He felt his friend's gaze studying him. Carlisle had amazing instincts, which made Jasper a bit anxious. Did he know? Did he see something different in him? Had he seen Isabella and noticed something?

"How are the men?" Jasper asked. He settled in front of his plate and began eating.

"Our hostess directed Jacob to line up the men single file," explained Carlisle. "Under Jacob's watchful eye, the men filed in. It was all rather orderly. You would have been proud. There was no incident of poor manners as they each picked up their plate and filed out."

"Good. There would have been some heads rolling if I heard differently."

"Mrs. Swan has a way with Jacob." Carlisle grinned.

"Is that so?"

"It was like watching Moses part the Red Sea." Jasper smiled; amused by the image Carlisle was painting.

"How long did I oversleep?"

"Not much actually," answered Carlisle. "It hasn't even been an hour yet."

"And our hostess?" he casually asked.

"She made her apologies." Carlisle raised his eyes to look his friend. Jasper's attention was focused on his breakfast. "She explained that she had some charity to attend to, and would not be able to join us for a formal breakfast."

"In this weather; no one dissuaded her?" Jasper's tone revealed his disapproval.

"I pointed out to her that the roads were more than likely not safe to travel," explained Carlisle. "She was rather persistent. She explained it was within walking distance and that it was one of her boarders who was in need of her charity."

"I see," said Jasper. He quickly remembered her injured friend, Stefan.

"Little Alice accompanied her, so I'm afraid you have only my company."

"Was it still raining when she left?"

"By the time I woke up and came down, it had stopped. However, shortly after Mrs. Swan departed, it had begun drizzling."

Jasper nodded and both men ate in relative silence. The Major was the first speak again. "Has someone been sent out to check on the roads?"

"Before breakfast was served," answered Carlisle. "It would be unwise to attempt to travel until the roads dry."

"Very well." Jasper would not disagree. Things were different now. Yesterday as they rounded the hill, he was eager to reach Laredo, but that all changed when he saw her.

"I don't think it'll be too long," said Carlisle. "I'd wager we should be able to press forward in a day or two if the weather cooperates."

Both men continued with short and slow conversations filled with silences between topics. This was their way and a large part in why they had become friends. Without seemingly appearing to rush through his breakfast, Jasper's thoughts were preoccupied with how to steal away from his friend in order to search Isabella out.

"I take it you'll be losing yourself in the library during our stay?"

"Actually," answered Carlisle. "I agreed to provide some assistance with Mr. Swan. See if perhaps there might have been something his physician has missed." Jasper's expression hardened. He felt contempt for their host. For what he had done and for being the one thing preventing him from making Isabella his own.

"What have you found?" asked Jasper.

"Nothing yet actually. I'll be interviewing Laurent and examining Mr. Swan when I'm done here."

"Very well."

"I know how restless you can be when confined behind walls," said Carlisle. He suspected Jasper was hoping to slip away to see Isabella. "Perhaps you should take a walk."

"Perhaps."

After breakfast, as Carlisle had said he would, he excused himself from his friend's company and made his way upstairs.

Alone on the main floor with the exception of Margaret, Jasper stepped outside on to the porch. The aroma after a good cleansing rain enveloped him. The cool air of the night before was now comfortably warm. Aside from the waning drizzling, it was a pleasant late morning.

Glancing around, he carefully made his way around the house. Deliberately, he avoided the barn. Quickly Jasper found the path Nathanial had led them the night before. As soon as he reached the area between the two outbuildings, his stride took on a brisker pace. Each step that brought him closer to his destination, to Isabella, made his chest throb with a sweet pain.

He was practically vibrating with anticipation.

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	10. Chapter 10

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**Texas, 1857  
**Chapter Ten

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"Cuidado mi amor," Isabella cautioned her little sister. Before they had left to go check on Stefan, Alice had retrieved an art project she had worked on only days earlier. With her boat of leaves and bark in one hand and the other in Isabella's hand, she excitedly kept pace as best as she could with her older sister.

As Isabella tended to Stefan, the initial interest little Alice had shown in what her sister was doing faded. She was just too eager to head back outside in search of a nice stream to test her boat's sea worthiness.

After what seemed to Alice as a thorough inspection, Stefan declared her little boat a masterpiece. He was confident that it would work. With a careful kiss to Stefan's cheek, little Alice, under Isabella's direction, thanked him and wished him a speedy recovery.

Once outside, it took everything to keep Alice from running off. Eventually, they found a stream that satisfied the nine year old's criteria. Intently, Isabella watched Alice as she kneeled close to the ground, and placed her boat in one of the many streams created from last night's rainfall.

"¡Mira! Está flotando," Alice squealed with excitement. "El barco works," she victoriously declared. Her little boat of leaves and bark had worked. It floated lazily along with the streams current.

"Cuidado." Isabella nervously quickened her step to stay within arm's reach of her sister in case Alice slipped. "Oh," she gasped. "Please be careful," she implored Alice again. Isabella's words drifted off like a passing puff of cloud over Alice's attention as she walked along the stream's edge, following her boat.

"I'm fine," Alice turned and gave her sister a quick glance. Much to Isabella's relief, the stream had come to an end, forming a pool of water too wide to jump over. Settling on a nearby boulder, Isabella watched between reading pages from her book, as Alice entertained herself with her boat of leaves and bark, a pool of water, and sticks.

Suddenly, a split second lapse, and Alice accidently stepped several inches into the pool of water.

"Alice," Isabella reprimanded her sister. Her voice carried, filling the space around them. Just then, as Jasper was passing along, he quickly stopped. From the path he was on, his eyes searched for the angel behind the voice. Stepping off the path, he followed the footprints left behind on the damp ground.

"Cuidado," Isabella told her sister. "You're going to ruin your boots beyond repair."

"It was an accident," Alice insisted, handing her boat to her sister for safe keeping.

"Just please. Por favor, be careful."

"I will," Alice promised. She quickly returned to the pool of water.

From a few feet away, Jasper felt his breath suddenly hitch inside the back of his throat. His attention focused on Isabella. The memory of her erotic sighs and his name on her lips flashed across his mind. The image of her laying beneath him, her lovely face framed by a pillow of dark silky hair.

This private knowledge fanned the flames in his heart.

"Major," happily shrieked Alice. Isabella's heart felt as if it leapt inside her chest. She almost slipped standing upright.

Alice rushed over to the Major inviting him to join them. Jasper smiled at her, accepting her invitation. "You have to see my boat," Alice smiled. "I made it all myself. Well," she conceded, "Bella helped me, but I did most of the work."

"I need to see it then," said Jasper. Alice ran over to her sister, taking her boat of leaves and bark. Jasper turned his attention to his heart's desire. The black dress she wore, dipped in a heart shape across her chest, concealing the perfection beneath it; the swells of soft skin in which he had found such delight. Appreciatively, he was thankful at the way her golden yellow shawl lazily draped over her arms, exposing her bare shoulders, which only hours ago he had kissed.

Isabella felt herself respond to the sight of Jasper Whitlock. A wave of recognition and pleasure swept through her. "Major." A blush painted her cheeks as her mind was flooded with the recollection of her coupling with him.

"Mrs. Swan." Jasper stood in front of her; his hands flinching under the restraint he exerted. He wanted to touch her; kiss her.

"See," Alice's little sing song voice drew Jasper's attention away from the woman who'd captured his heart.

"Excuse me." Jasper gave Isabella a respectful bow and followed little Alice to the stream.

"Look, it works," announced Alice.

"Well if you don't say," Jaspers enthusiasm pleased Alice. "And you said you made this?"

"Yep," Alice grinned.

"Well done. It floats exceptionally well."

"Thank you." Jasper's praise reignited Alice's interest in her boat of leaves and bark. After dedicating several minutes to Alice, Jasper readily turned his attention to Isabella.

"May I join you?" he asked, approaching her.

"Yes," she quickly replied. Isabella's heart pulsated. "It would please me." With longing, her eyes eagerly trailed over his short blonde and tawny beard and to the plump lips it framed.

Sitting next to her on the boulder, they sat quietly. Though their eyes were on Alice, their awareness was completely captivated by the others. Embolden by the sweet sound of her quickening breaths, Jasper reached for her hand. Isabella swallowed. Hidden beneath her shawl, Jasper tenderly touched her fingers, making every inch of her body quake with yearning. Her chest rose and dipped with excitement.

Jasper desperately wished to declare his feelings to her. Tell her how much he adored her. Tell her how willing he was to rearrange his life to be with her. Above all, he wanted to show her how much he desired her.

"I must admit," Isabella paused, wetting her throat. "I'm happy the roads are impassible."

"As am I," smiled Jasper.

"Good," she breathed a sigh of relief, lacing her fingers between Jasper's.

Sitting next to each other, every inch of her skin was electrified.

"I missed you this morning," whispered Jasper. A delicious shiver streamed down her spine, concentrating into a pulsing heat between her legs.

"I had to check on Stefan."

"I would have gone with you."

"You looked so peaceful," Isabella smiled, glancing at him through her lashes.

"It was perhaps for the best." His eyes drew her in. "I wouldn't have let you leave my bed."

"Major." Isabella was breathless. His fingers trailed to the inside of her wrist. "Please," she whispered. Her eyes pleaded with him.

Jasper smiled. He was enjoying the effect he had on her. "How was your friend?" he asked, resting his hand in hers beneath her shawl.

"Much better. He's regained a bit of his color again," answered Isabella, relieved that Jasper stopped arousing her. "I feared a fever, but he seems to have avoided it. Another day or two and he should be able to move about."

"Did he say what happened?"

"He won't say," she replied. "I believe his angel did not feel the same way as he did."

"How long have you known him?

"Stefan's father was a campesino, tenant farmer, on my father's land," Isabella explained. "After the War, when the Treaty was amended, my father died as he was attempting to gather his assets to sue for his land"

Jasper's heart stilled.

A sudden realization hit him.

Jasper's first battle had been in the war against Mexico. President Polk said it was their Manifest Destiny to expand the US's territory westward. Caught up in the patriotic mood of the nation, he lied about his age and enlisted in the Army. He was part of the first wave of forces that invaded Mexico's territory. Jasper had been part of the US forces that conquered California and New Mexico. Carlisle had been part of the Army forces that had invaded and captured Mexico's capital. It was Carlisle's platoon who took down the Mexican flag and replaced it with the US flag.

Events he played in, were in part, the reason Isabella's family were evicted from their land, their home; he felt like he was going to be sick. He might as well have been the one that struck Isabella.

Unaware of how closely knit her and Jasper's lives had been over the last thirteen years, Isabella continued, "Several months after my father died, his land title was revoked. Stefan's family and others, who had lived and worked on our land, lost their homes. Stefan's father found work here on Edward's farm. That's how my mother came to work here."

"How so?" asked Jasper. He could do without a history lesson on Edward Maren Swan. He was, though, interested in Isabella's life.

Gradually, he felt himself settle after the blow he'd silently endured.

"My father—I think he would have liked you," said Isabella. "His name was Charles. He was a good man. Stefan's father remembered this. So when he found out Edward was hiring house help, he told my mother. He didn't have to do that. His wife could have easily taken the job. But he didn't. That's how my mother came to work here. She cooked, mended, and helped with the running of the house."

"Is that how you came to be married to him?

Isabella's gaze trailed to the trees, nodding her head she said, "My mother, her name was Renée. She rented a small house—it was really just a room…Alice and I stayed there alone when she worked. We were playing outside one day when Edward was touring his property….That is how I met him." Isabella shrugged. Her expression looked like someone trying to recall someone else's life. "He told my mother she could bring us to the house when she worked. He seemed kind….I was so young." She looked over her shoulder, glancing up at Jasper next to her. His kind smile encouraged her to go on. Returning her gaze to Alice she continued, her voice trembling slightly, "I think my mother knew she was sick." Jasper gently squeezed her hand.

"I'm sorry." He wanted to draw her into his arms. That was his first instinct, but he held back.

"I think she suspected Edward's fondness toward me. She encouraged it, allowing him to spend time with me...I had no idea." Isabella drew her hand out from under Jasper's. Placing her hands on her lap, she toyed with a strand from her shawl. Breathing deeply she said, "He was fun. It was silly really. He would buy me ice cream. But he taught me how to read." A melancholy smile spread across her face. "I liked when he took me for rides on the wagonette." Her smile disappeared. A short silence fell between them. Jasper stayed silent allowing her at least the privacy of her thoughts.

"One night." Isabella's voice was just above a whisper. "She tells me I'm going to marry Edward. I always did what my mother said." She quickly wiped away the tears from her eyes. Shaking herself off she told Jasper, "Well, here I am now. Stefan's father still works for Edward. After I shared with Edward my memory of a few families I remembered fondly that had worked my father's land, Edward hired them. There's a small track of workers' quarters that way," she pointed in the opposite direction from where the slaves' quarters were located. "You would need a horse. It's a long walk."

"That was decent of him." Jasper tried not to sound surprised.

"Yes it was," agreed Isabella. "Unlike the Three Rivers Ranch," she huffed. Jasper instantly stiffened. The distain in her voice was clear.

"What about Three Rivers?" he cautiously asked. That was his father's ranch.

"They weren't paying their farm workers – treating them like slave labor." Isabella was fuming just thinking about it. "When Stefan told me, I told Edward immediately. You know it's illegal not to pay." Isabella glanced up at Jasper. His beard concealed the flush on his cheeks.

"Edward doesn't happen to be from the North?"

"Yes," Isabella gave Jasper a strange look. She didn't understand the significance it held whether Edward was from the South or North.

_Northern Eddie, _silently breathed Jasper. _Hell._ It just kept getting worse. First he learns he played a small part in having Isabella's family evicted from their land, subsequently throwing her in to the arms of Edward Maren Swan. And now, he finds out that the very _Northern Eddie _his father had fumed about for causing him trouble with his help, had been none other than Edward Maren Swan, whom Isabella launched against his father.

"I see." Jasper leaned forward, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. "Yep," he exhaled. "My father was madder than a wet hen when he was put straight."

"What?" Isabella gaped at Jasper.

"Three Rivers is my father's ranch." Jasper smiled as Isabella's cheeks turned a few different shades of red.

"I didn't know," Isabella choked.

"He needed to be put straight, if it hadn't been Edward, it would have been someone else."

Isabella unconsciously nodded her head. Her thoughts were racing. Jasper's father had mistreated and tried to cheat the very workers that Isabella considered her people. Like her, they had been displaced when the government seized the lands once belonging to Mexican Americans.

Seeing Isabella's lovely face tense with concern, Jasper's tone turned serious and reassuring. He didn't want to be measured by the actions of his father. "I'm not him Isabella. I'm not my father."

"I'm hungry," Alice interrupted their conversation.

"You know what?" happily asked Jasper, instantly breaking the awkwardness of their conversation.

"Nope, I don't." Alice nodded, grinning from ear to ear.

"That color needs some work." Jasper smiled. Reaching forward he rubbed the streak of mud off Alice's forehead.

"We're going to have to clean you up," said Isabella.

"You know what else?" Jasper asked.

"Nope. Don't know," Alice giggled.

"I'm hungry too."

"Then I suggest we head back," said Isabella.

"Hay," giggled Alice. Jasper hoisted her over his shoulder, carrying her like a rolled up blanket.

"Where's your boat?" asked Isabella glancing around.

"My boat," said Alice. Isabella spotted it discarded, but still in one piece next to the pool of water. Picking it up, she carried it for Alice.

"Do you think my sister is a Looker?" asked Alice dangling over the Major's shoulder. Isabella's hand came to her face, shielding her surprise. Jasper let out a gently laugh, glancing over at Isabella.

"Yes she is," he confidently answered. "She's so beautiful it nearly makes a man weep."

"Jacob thinks she's a Looker too," giggled Alice. "But I didn't see him crying." Jasper let out another laugh.

"He didn't, did he?" he asked. "Well then he's blind."

"And bald," she said sadly, as if Jacob had lost his pet rabbit. This time both Isabella and Jasper laughed in unison.

"Well, we won't tell him that," replied Isabella. "Pointing out unflattering observations about a person is poor manners."

"Why's being bald un-flad-er-ring?" asked Alice.

"A man likes to pride himself by how much hair he has on his head," explained Jasper. "It's a sensitive topic and best left alone."

"Why do you have hair on your face?"

"Alice," Isabella gently chastised her.

"Is that un-flad-er-ring?" Alice sighed deeply. Jasper laughed. Safely, on the path that would lead them to the house, Jasper swung her off his shoulder and on to her feet.

"Do you like my beard?" he asked Isabella. He smiled at seeing her blush again.

"She's flying," said Alice, rolling her little brown eyes.

"Alice," Isabella sighed.

With a smile on his face Jasper said, "Any man counts himself fortunate when he can make a Lady feel like she's flying." Little Alice scrunched her nose.

"Your funny," she giggled.

"That's enough talk about flying," said Isabella. "Let's go wash-up for our mid-day meal." Alice took the lead, skipping happily ahead of them while staying within Isabella's watchful gaze.

Leaning closer to Isabella, Jasper confessed, "I want to kiss you."

Isabella swallowed. With her heart pulsating, feeling as if it would burst out of her and fly away, she kept her composure. Jasper chivalrously offered his arm for Isabella, and she took it.

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	11. Chapter 11

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**Texas, 1857  
**Chapter Eleven

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"Be careful Doc," Jasper cautioned his friend. Last time the men played football, Carlisle had gotten a nasty bruise on his chin.

"We'll be easy on you old man," Jacob teased the Lieutenant. The men bantered among themselves as they begun to set up for a new game. The pleasantly warm weather had drawn everyone outside. The ground around the house had dried enough over the last day and a half to make for a mud free football game possible.

"I'll show you how a real man plays," Carlisle snickered.

"Will he get hurt?" Isabella asked Jasper who was sitting in the chair next to her.

"No," answered Jasper. "He's actually the best player in the platoon." Isabella gave him a slight nod in understanding. She watched the soldiers begin their new game. Their feet moved quickly as they kicked the ball between their teammates. Just then a little figure drew Isabella's attention away from the game.

It was Eleazar, Stefan's youngest brother. He was a few years younger than Alice. With a wide happy grin on his face, he came up to the porch.

"Patrona," he smiled revealing two missing front teeth. The little boy had a cowlick on the back of his head. It gave his hair the appearance of feathers fanning out.

"¡Hola mijo!" Isabella enthusiastically greeted the little boy. She stood up drawing him into a warm hug. "¿Cómo esta tu mamá?" Asking after his mother, Isabella playfully ran her fingers through his dark hair. Like his brother, Eleazar had the loveliest pale green eyes. At seven he was already blessed with striking features. Isabella was sure he would grow into a dashing young man.

"Está bien," he grinned. "Acabamos de comer."

Little Alice came up and stood next to Eleazar. "Eli," she greeted her playmate.

"¿Su familia tiene suficiente alimentos?" Isabella asked wanting to make sure Stefan's family had plenty of food.

"Si." Little Eleazer whose family called him Eli nodded. His bright eyes and missing two front teeth melted Isabella's heart.

The little boy's attention was riveted on his playmate.

"Can we go play?" eagerly asked Alice.

"Yes," said Isabella. "Be careful and don't go beyond the woods near the house."

"We won't," Alice took Eli's hand. "Promise," she called over her shoulder. The little duo skirted off the porch.

With a smile on her face, Isabella sighed. She was thinking about how much she would have loved to have a child. But it didn't seem to be in the stars for her. Edward's late wife was never able to bare him children. And it seemed after nine years, neither could she.

"If you'll excuse me," Isabella turned to Jasper. "I need to check on Edward."

"Yes," Jasper nodded, "Of course." His gaze followed Isabella's form as she walked back into the house. Though he stayed put and watched the game, his thoughts were on Isabella. He allowed his mind to indulge in the details of his memory of her.

He shifted in his seat.

When he had heard her voice that morning, it was nearly enough to tip him over the edge. A few times, his need to have her was so strong, that he was sure he would pull her away to have his way with her. Instead he counted the hours until nightfall; until she would come to his bed again.

With the men's football game score at two to one, Jasper rose from his seat and casually entered the house. Chancing that Isabella was still upstairs he quietly made his way up, stopping outside the doorway into Edward's room. Jasper's eyes found Isabella sitting and talking with Laurent. He stood silently, willing her to look up at him.

"I just can't seem to get him to eat anything." Laurent was obviously grieved.

"Keep trying," said Isabella. She felt an unnerving sensation. Glancing up, she caught Jasper's gaze. The hunger she saw in his eyes made her quiver. "Offer him food often," she told Laurent.

"I will."

"I'm going to lay down for a nap," Isabella stood from her chair. Jasper smiled. Stepping away from the doorway, he moved to lean against the wall next to the door. "I'll check in on him afterwards," Isabella told Laurent.

"Yes ma'am."

Though her body was telling her to run, Isabella slowly took her leave. Stepping into the hallway, Jasper grabbed her by the arm, flinging her around and toward his larger frame.

A rush of air escaped her.

Before she could speak, Jasper overwhelmed her, seizing her tender mouth. His kiss was demanding. Turning her, he pressed her against the wall, leaning his athletic built against her. His hands were rough; insatiable. He did everything to coax Isabella's passion to the surface. Jasper knew he'd gotten what he wanted when he felt her delicate fingers pulling up at his shirt, searching for entrance.

Breaking their ravenous kiss, he took her by the arm and hurried her to his room. Unknown to the young couple, Margaret had caught Jasper leading Isabella into his room. A devilish smile pulled up at the corners of the older woman's mouth. Acting as if she'd seen nothing, she entered Edward's room to shuffle away the mid-day dishes, which she'd brought up earlier for Edward and Laurent.

Behind closed doors, Jasper claimed Isabella with such a passion he was certain the house would have ignited in to flames. With his hand over her sweet mouth, muffling her cries of rapture, Jasper wished for a way to capture all the sounds she made when he made love to her. He would have guarded and cherished that music box.

The euphoria of their union dissipated, leaving them both completely relaxed. Laying on his back, Jasper draped his arm around Isabella.

"Come with me; you and Alice." His voice was soft and gentle.

"I can't just leave," Isabella sat up, pulling the sheet up and across her chest. As fanciful and as wonderful as the prospect of being with Jasper was, it was also unrealistic. Divorce was too expensive. Even if Edward granted her one, which he never would, her name would be smeared.

Isabella lowered her head, resting her forehead on her knees.

"I would leave my post." Jasper stroked her back. "We could start a life together in Mexico."

"Jasper." Isabella raised her head. With her open hand, she touched the side of his handsome face. "There are too many souls here that depend on me staying. As much as I would want this other life with you, I can't abandon my responsibilities." She gazed at him longingly. "You're a good man. You've worked so hard to achieve what you have."

Jasper drew back from Isabella's touch. Leaning against the headboard he rubbed the palms of his hand against his face. "What good is it, if you're here and I'm there?"

"You're here now with me," Isabella turned allowing the sheet to fall to her waist. Jasper sat still, admiring her feminine design. Carefully, she moved herself, positioning her body in front of Jasper's. His hands reached up, caressing her hips. "We're together now," she leaned forward and kissed him.

Pushing the inescapable truth away, Jasper kissed her back.

"Mistress." There was a soft rasping at the bedroom door.

With her heart in her throat, Isabella drew the sheets around herself. Quickly Jasper jumped out of bed and pulled his trousers over his thighs and hips. He reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head. He gestured for Isabella to stay behind him, hidden from the eyes of whoever was knocking on his door.

Isabella's heart raced frantically with alarm.

Cracking the door slightly, Jasper cautiously asked, "What is it?" His eyes immediately met Margaret's.

"The Master is asking for her," Margaret whispered. "I've delayed as much as I can."

Jasper nodded to the older woman. "Thank you." Margaret turned and disappeared down the hallway.

Hearing Margaret's words to Jasper, Isabella gathered her clothes and hurriedly began dressing herself.

"Easy now," Jasper stood behind her, securing the clasps at the back of her long skirt.

"My hairpins?" Isabella strained her voice.

"Shh," Jasper breathed, wrapping his strong arms around her. He held her securely against his chest. He refused to allow Edward to yank her away from him. "You don't have to rush out. Be calm."

"I will," whispered Isabella. Jasper placed small kisses along the curve of her neck. His touch was soothing. Satisfied that she wouldn't run out of his room, Jasper released her.

Isabella sat on the edge of the bed and began to braid her long dark hair.

"Here you go," Jasper handed her, her hairpins.

"Thank you," she mumbled, holding a few hairpins between her lips, as her hands worked at pinning her braids into a bun. When she finished, she stood and pressed the fabric of her blouse and skirt with the palms of her hands. "I have to go," she said. A gentle smile lit her face as she walked toward the door.

As her hand reached for the doorknob, Jasper turned her and pressed her against the door. He leaned in and kissed her. He needed to know that she belonged to him. When she moaned into his kiss, he was satisfied.

With rosy cheeks and beautifully swollen lips, Jasper watched her slip out into the hallway.

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	12. Chapter 12

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**Texas, 1857  
**Chapter Twelve

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A few days had passed since they had arrived, and though Jasper was content to never leave Isabella's side, his men were growing restless. Unlike their leader, they were ready to start their journey to Laredo.

Reluctantly, Jasper gave the order the night before for Sgt Black to send out a scouting party in the morning. And now sitting in the library, his Sergeant began his report.

"The roads are preddy dry and passable," reported Jacob. "There a few places where the road had washed out, but it wouldn't be much to go around."

"How soon can you have the men prepared and ready to leave?" Jasper asked.

"We can be ready at your order in an hour," answered the Sergeant. Jasper didn't speak. Their orders were to report to Laredo as soon as possible. But he didn't want to go to Laredo; not if he couldn't take Isabella and Alice with him.

Jacob stood silent waiting for the Major's direction. After a short time, his gaze darted over to the First Lieutenant and then back to the Major. Carlisle knew the source of his friend and commander's hesitation for not wanting to leave.

"If we depart now," Carlisle interjected, pulling Jasper from his thoughts, "We wouldn't reach the Nueces by nightfall. We could get ready today to leave at day break."

"The Lieutenant makes a good point," conceded Jacob. "If we left first thing at sunrise, we'd reach the Nueces River well before nightfall." Jasper nodded. A river crossing was always dangerous, but when one had the choice to cross at night or at day – the day was always preferable.

"That would put us at Fort Ewell for the night," finished Jacob, hiding the smile threatening to pull at his lips. After months of sleeping on the ground, a cot sounded really good to Jacob.

"Very, well. Have the men prepare to leave at day break," stated Jasper.

Jacob gestured his acceptance of the Major's orders. Excusing himself, Jacob made his way through the corridor and by way of the kitchen he exited the house.

"Well," Carlisle patted Jasper's shoulder. "I have a patient to check on."

Jasper hesitated. A weight pressed heavily on his chest. They were leaving in the morning. The rift between his current situation and Isabella's was no more distinct to him than at that moment. She had made it clear the last few nights that she didn't need rescuing. Jasper silently lamented, _but I do._

"Its best this way," Carlisle consoled his friend. Leaving his friend in the library, Carlisle made his way upstairs. As much as he cared for Jasper, Carlisle was aware that Jasper still had a year left in his commission. He belonged to the Army. And at the present, the Army was expecting them to return to Laredo.

Surrounded by the scent of ink, leather, and books, Jasper stood motionless. This was it. He would be riding out at sunrise, away from her.

Jasper wondered into the kitchen where he found Margaret. There was a distinct expression on his face and Margaret instantly realized what it meant. "When do you leave?" she asked, keeping her eyes on her chore.

"Daybreak."

"I'll prepare a few things for you and your men to take with you."

"We'd be much obliged," said Jasper.

Margaret watched the Major as he moved toward the back door.

Silently, he stood staring out the screen door, his eyes not focusing on anything in particular. Like in battle, it took only one or three details to change the course of a war, so it was with life. Three days, three days with Isabella, was all it took to turn Jasper's life upside down. He felt so twisted up; it was hard to think clear.

He had to remind himself that he had a future waiting for him at Three Rivers, and her name was Rosalie. He also had a future waiting for him in Laredo, and her name was the US Army. Yet the future he truly wanted was here in this house. _Isabella_. It was a future he could almost taste.

With Jasper's back toward her, Margaret discreetly asked, "Does she know yet?" Jasper nodded his reply. Margaret sighed audibly. "You'd better git on the stick," she advised him. "She's upstairs with Edward."

"I will," breathed Jasper. Without looking up at the old woman, Jasper moved, making his way through the house and up the stairs.

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	13. Chapter 13

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**Texas, 1857  
**Chapter Thirteen

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"Has it helped?" Carlisle asked pointing to the book in Isabella's hands. Edward had been restless. That morning he'd noticed the older man respond soothingly to Isabella's steady voice. Under his encouragement, she retrieved one of Edward's favorite books and began to read to him. It seemed to have done the trick.

"He seems more comfortable," she answered.

"Isabella," Edward's voice came out moist and uneven. He reached blindly for her. His hand unsteady.

"What is it Edward?" she asked. Resting the book on her lap, Isabella placed her hand under Edward's. He was so cold to the touch. If it wouldn't have bothered him, she would have covered him with a heavier blanket. "Is my voice not clear?" she asked. As Edward's condition worsened, he found it difficult to hear her soft voice. Not answering her, Edward drew her hand up to his lips, kissing her.

The intimate touch made her uneasy. Three days ago, she would have felt impartial toward her husband's touch. But now, this natural gesture between a husband and wife, made her feel disloyal. Though she belonged to Edward in every legal sense, she was Jasper's. Heart and soul.

After their first night, the night when she intended to only kiss him that once, kissing Jasper Whitlock proved to be an event she couldn't satiate with only one kiss. And for the last few days, each kiss; each caress; each intimate union grew needier than the ones before.

Time was against them.

He would have to leave; he and his men. This was a reality she knew since the beginning, yet it did nothing to alleviate the pain of heart knowing she would never see him again.

Neither Jasper nor Isabella voiced this eventuality. And though she thought herself to be many things, she was a realist. So leaving Jasper asleep in his bed alone that morning, Isabella slipped out quietly. In her room, before Alice came in, she worked at hardening herself for the inevitability that she knew was coming.

"Kind and sweet Isabella," murmured Edward. "I may not have always shown it," he paused, his breathing so slow Isabella thought several times while sitting next to him that his suffering had ended. "I have loved you."

Isabella's eyes glossed. Despite the indifference she'd always felt toward Edward, she could not dismiss the world he had opened up to her. He had taught her how to write and read. He'd taught her how to navigate the intricacies of his society. He'd provided comfortably for her and her sister.

"I know Edward." Drawing his hand to her lips, Isabella kissed the back of his hand.

In the hallway, just outside the bedroom door, Jasper stood silently watching the exchange between Edward and Isabella. Though he went over repeatedly in his mind that the gesture was benign, it did little to lessen the state of his heart. Seeing Isabella gazing at Edward with her beautiful dark eyes made something hard and sharp bite him on the inside. He hated the thought that someone else other than him could and would be touching her.

Without being noticed, Jasper walked away.

Unaware of the audience she had, Isabella gently tucked Edward's hand under the sheets. Returning to the book, she began reading again. Before she reached the second page, Edward seemingly drifted to sleep again. He was doing a lot of sleeping since Jasper's men had arrived. Neither she nor Laurent were able to coax him into eating any more.

"You'll need to prepare yourself," kindly stated Carlisle as he examined Edward. Isabella's eyes darted from the book and up to Carlisle. His voice was so soft, Isabella was not sure if she heard him correctly.

"What can be done?" she asked.

"Make him as comfortable as you can." Isabella's gaze darted from the Lieutenant to Laurent and to Edward. He looked so peaceful.

"How much longer?" Isabella whispered. Fear crept up threatening to ensnare her. Edward had always taken care of everything. He paid the bills and made the deposits; he managed their business interests; he negotiated the price for their crops. She only ever had to concern herself with the running of the house.

"It's hard to say." Carlisle noted the fear in Isabella's dark sultry eyes. "It could be hours even days." Isabella nodded her head. "I'll send word to his physician."

"Of course," her voice trembled with emotion.

"Our platoon will be leaving at day break."

"I see." The news was as potent as being struck. She felt her lungs deflate.

"Take some respite," Carlisle encouraged her. "I'll stay with him."

"Thank you Lieutenant." Isabella could hardly conceal the emotions stirring below the surface. She stood, handing Laurent, Edward's book. As he began to read, she slipped into the hallway.

She was light headed. Pausing in the hallway, she took a moment to catch her breath. She was about to lose Jasper and though everything inside her seemed to want to drown in the misery that, that thought created, she had other things that needed her attention.

Edward had never discussed with her what would happen to her or Alice if he ever died. She needed to speak with Edward's lawyer, Michael Newton.

Isabella went down the hall and into her bedroom. Inside she stood in front of her dress cabinet, reaching in for one of her gilets. She slipped it on, covering the low neckline of her white blouse. If she was going to meet with Mr. Newton, she wanted to be dressed appropriately. Edward may have been many things, but he had trained her well when it came to presenting herself.

Slowly, Isabella moved, making her way downstairs and in to the parlor. Sitting behind her writing desk, Isabella quickly penned a note to Mr. Newton requesting a meeting. Sealing it neatly, she searched for Margaret.

"Where is Nathanial?" Isabella's voice drew the older woman's attention from the ironing. "I need a letter delivered immediately."

"He's outside," answered Margaret. Isabella's countenance was flat, and instantly the older woman was worried. "Who should I tell him it needs to be delivered to?"

"Mr. Newton's office," replied Isabella.

"Is everything fine?" she asked.

"Edward doesn't have much time."

"Oh," breathed the older woman. "I'm truly sorry Ms. Isabella." Margaret placed the hot iron on its plate. Wiping her hands on her apron, she reached for the letter.

"No," said Isabella. "I'll give it to him myself. I need to speak with Nathanial."

"He's at the barn."

Isabella quietly walked out through the back door and headed toward the barn. The closer she got, the clearer the layers of voices inside became.

Alice, who was playing on the swing, jumped off and ran over to her sister. "Where are we going?" she asked. Isabella only wore her long dark gilet when she was going somewhere.

"No where," Isabella answered. "_We_ aren't going anywhere."

"Oh," Alice's disappointment was obvious.

"I need to have a private conversation with Nathanial," Isabella explained. "Then I need to go see Stefan's father. I need you to go back and play."

"Can I have some apple pie?"

Isabella smiled at her sister, "Yes. Just let Margaret know that I said it was fine."

"Yeah," squealed Alice. She smiled at her sister as she turned and ran into the house. With Alice safely inside, Isabella pulled the barn door open so she could enter.

Her heart instantly stopped.

Jasper was standing a few feet in front of her inside the barn.

"Hello Mrs. Isabella," Nathanial greeted her.

Hesitantly, she drew her eyes away from Jasper and to Nathanial. "I need this delivered immediately," she said. "It's important," she stressed. Nathanial approached her, taking the letter she was handing him.

"Who do I take it to?" he asked.

"Mr. Newton." Nathanial nodded. "I also need my horse prepared," she instructed him.

"Garrett is in the stables Mrs.," he informed her. "He'll get you set-up straight away."

"Thank you Nathanial."

"Yes ma'am."

Isabella's gaze turned to Jasper. She wasn't sure what to make of his hard expression. Had he even planned to tell her he was leaving? With an audience watching her, she turned without saying a word to Jasper.

"Nathanial," she said, "Walk with me please."

"Yes ma'am," he said.

Once outside and away from the barn, Isabella spoke. "Edward is dying. I'm not clear on what that'll mean for us. Me, Alice, you and Margaret and the others." Nathanial immediately understood the gravity of their new situation. "I don't even have the first idea at how to run this place. We'll talk later," she told him. "Anything that you can share with me would be much appreciated. For now, I'm going to go speak with Ephraim."

"Garrett," Nathanial's baritone rumbled through the stables.

"I'm right here," answered Garrett.

"Get Mrs. Swan's horse ready," he directed the young man. "She needs to leave now."

"Yes sir," said Garrett. His lithe frame made him fast.

"When we have more time," Isabella told Nathanial. "I'll need to put a list together of everyone the farm does business with."

"Do you have any idea how he's leaving the _property_?"

"No," answered Isabella. "That's why I need you to deliver that letter right away."

"I'll get it to Mr. Newton," Nathanial's low tone was filled with conviction.

Garrett expertly prepped Isabella's horse, Nuala, even assisting her into the saddle. "Thank you Garrett," Isabella said as she took the reins into her gloved hands.

"Be careful Ms. Bella," Nathanial gave her horse a gentle nudge.

Maneuvering Nuala, Bella headed toward the workers' quarters.

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**A/N:** _Thanks to everyone for adding my story to their "Favorites" and to their "Story Alerts". I'm also completely flattered to those who have added me to their "Author Alerts" and to their "Favorite Author" lists. Thank you. Please go and check out some of my other stories. Also, to everyone who has reviewed this story - your awesome!_

_If you haven't left a review, don't be shy. Click the button below and say hi._


	14. Chapter 14

**WARNING:** _This chapter contains strong but non-explicit adult themes that are not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16._

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**Texas, 1857  
**Chapter Fourteen

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Guiding her horse around the house and past the barn, Isabella led Nuala toward the direction where the path would take them to the workers' quarters. Her thoughts were preoccupied with getting her head wrapped around everything that she needed to know in order to run the farm when Edward was gone. Between Ephraim, Nathanial, and Mr. Newton, Isabella hoped she would be able to keep the farm going.

Lost in her own thoughts, Isabella didn't see a rider suddenly appear in front of them.

Nuala lifted herself onto her hind legs. Isabella's hands held on desperately. Heart racing – drums beating against the inside of her ears, she worked to calm her horse, moving her back several steps. That's when she spotted him.

Calming Nuala down, Isabella narrowed her eyes. The set of her lips hardened. "Major Whitlock." Her voice took on a formal cadence. "What do you want?" she asked with venom in her tone. It was easier to be angry than to allow herself to feel hurt that he had been planning to leave without a word.

Jasper huffed. "What do I want?" His voice had an edge. Resentment raged, pulsing through his body. He was indignant at the thought that he was not the only one allowed to touch her. "You ask what I want." His voice only barely veiled the fury boiling under the surface.

"How dare you," snapped Isabella. He was the one that was going to leave while she slept ignorant of the fact. She hated feeling pity for herself.

"How dare I?" Jasper huffed. "After everything," his anger surfaced, breaking the chill in his voice.

"You're the one who was going to leave without a word," Isabella's voice cracked. Stupid, stupid tears. She didn't want him to see her crying. Taking Nuala's reigns, Isabella turned and with a few clicks, Nuala broke into a gallop.

The trees flanking their one side blurred as Isabella raced away from the pain she felt. She regretted their first kiss – that one kiss. Nothing about that first kiss had been simple. That one magnificent kiss had changed everything. Its effect was elemental. Raw. Pure. It rushed through her like a formidable river, carving her; reshaping her.

"Stop!" ordered Jasper. His demanding tone assaulted her. Isabella refused to look at him. She wasn't one of his soldiers that he could order around. "Isabella!" he shouted.

"Get away from me!" she screamed. The wind in her eyes, stung. New tears welled around the rims of her eyes.

With seven years of experience fighting on horseback, Jasper confidently maneuvered Allegro alongside Nuala, allowing Isabella's young mare to see his stallion. With the trees too close for comfort, despite Isabella's direction, Nuala was forced to slow.

"Easy…easy," Jasper's strong voice called out to the mare. The young horse followed Allegro's lead. She slowed.

Taking the first opportunity, Jasper reached for Nuala's reigns.

"What are you doing?" protested Isabella.

"Whoa…whoa." Jasper gave Nuala's reigns a firm pull, turning the mare's head to one side. She obediently came to a stop next to his stallion. Jasper dismounted Allegro. He took several powerful strides and came to stand next to Nuala. Reaching up, Jasper took hold of Isabella.

"Let go of me," she struggled against Jasper's hold. With one powerful movement, he slid Isabella off her mare. "How dare you." She pushed hard against his chest, landing a few good blows.

"Stop it," he barked. Breathing heavily, Jasper lifted Isabella off her feet.

"Suéltame," she choked demanding for her release. The force of her words scrapped the back of her throat. She continued to thrash. Her limbs wildly flinging and kicking to gain advantage. All her effort was in vein. Isabella was all femininity, petiteness against Jasper's towering, powerful physique. "¿Cómo pudiste? ¿Era sola una distracción para te?" she cried, no longer trying to disguise her tears. The pain she felt at believing that she had been only a distraction for Jasper and nothing more was crushing.

In a flash Jasper had Isabella on the ground. His body pinning her lower half. They were fenced in by a thick screen of tall grass.

"Get off," she struggled, unable to move her legs or hips. "Please let go." Tears staining her face. Her lightly toasted complexion was flushed. Jasper released her wrists, cupping her face with his hands. "No." She tried to move. Her small fists desperately searched for a place to land a blow until every ounce of energy her anger had afforded her, evaporated. Breathless. Her lungs desperately drew in air.

"Look at me," he gently coaxed her to open her eyes.

"No," her voice hitched.

"Isabella," Jasper tenderly brushed his lips over hers. His scent. All masculine. Clean. Sweet. Her stupid lips responded under his warmth. She was engulfed and helpless under the power her heart gave him over her. Opening her eyes, she was pulled into those _eyes. _Isabella could see the different shades of his blue eyes swirl under a storm of emotions.

The air around them buzzed with energy. An undeniable attraction crackled and popped.

"I was going to tell you." Jasper gulped. He leaned forward, his nose touching hers. Isabella's heart raced for an entirely different reason from before. Jasper's breath sent a rush of warmth through her.

"When?" she whispered. Closing his eyes, Jasper was keenly aware of Isabella's soft body. A low groan escaped his lips. The sound created a burst of life between Isabella's thighs.

"I don't like him touching you."

"Huh?" Isabella was confused and lightheaded.

"I don't like it." Jasper's jaw tightened.

"Jasper," Isabella breathed. "He's my husband."

He drew back and looked at her. "I don't want him touching you." His piercing blue eyes trapped her in his gaze. "Promise me." Jasper allowed his hand to drop to her side. He pulled, gathering the fabric of her skirt. "No one touches you except me. Promise me."

"Jasper." Isabella trembled as Jasper's fingers found her forbidden center.

"Promise me." His gaze never released her.

"I promise," Isabella gasped. Her body trembled.

"Say it again," Jasper's voice was raw. She whimpered as Jasper's fingers lingered.

"I promise Jasper." She sighed. "Only…you."

In the privacy of the tall grass, Jasper disappeared beneath the fabric of her skirt. She moaned. Her body trembling with pleasure. Hunger growing. Primal need rising. Tension building.

In the core of her being, if Jasper asked her then, Isabella would have promised to runaway with him. Her heart swelled, filling with a wondrous ache filled with hope as encompassing as the sky above them. Jasper's strong hands held her firmly as he claimed her with one demanding kiss after another. She was lost in his decadently sinful caress. Isabella no longer remembered what her name was.

Suddenly, there was a crescendo of sensation rushing through her. Isabella's cry soared upward toward the sky. Moments later, returning to her ruby red lips, Jasper kissed her. Away from prying eyes and ears, concealed by the tall grass, Jasper held her.

"No one else will ever touch you." His voice was low.

"I swear," Isabella promised him. Time stretched out. With her head still resting against his chest, she was the first to break their silence. "He's dying."

"Leave with me then." This was his solution. As far as he could see, she had no reason to stay, or rather no reason he allowed himself to see.

"Jasper." Isabella drew back. Sitting up, she turned to look down at him. He made the words sound so easy. "I don't know what will happen to Margaret and Nathanial and all the others. I can't walk away from them. They're my responsibility." Isabella turned away. She couldn't look at him when she said what she was about to say. "I can't walk away from them to be your mistress."

Jasper sprang up, sitting next to her. "Do you really think that's how it would be?"

"How else could it be?" she asked.

"Bella," Jasper took her hand in his. "You'd be my wife – that's how."

"You mean that?" she looked up wistfully at him.

"If you'll have me." A tearful smile spread across her face. Isabella threw her arms around Jasper's neck.

"Wait." Her heart stilled. "I can't abandon everyone Jasper….I have to stay." There were too many souls attached to Edward's land. If she could help them, by staying, how could she not? If she abandoned the farm, who would gain ownership over Margaret and Nathanial and the others?

The conflict Jasper saw in her hauntingly soulful eyes echoed the same clash he felt. He wanted to stay with her. But if Isabella stayed here, he couldn't. He had one more year on his commission to the Army. If he deserted his post, he'd have to flea across the border. Either way, Isabella would be here and he would be elsewhere. Gently, he opened her hand and placed a kiss in her palm.

"Where were you going?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I have to go see Ephraim, Stefan's father," replied Isabella. "He has been working this farm since before I came to live here. I have no idea how to run this place. Edward always handled everything."

"Before the Army," said Jasper. "I helped my father run Three Rivers. I'll go with you."

"You would do that?"

"Yes." His smile, which ordinarily brightened every part of his handsome face, didn't reach his eyes. The sadness in his eyes matched the sadness Isabella felt in her heart. As much as she wished it not to be so, Jasper was leaving.

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	15. Chapter 15

**WARNING:** _This chapter contains some strong but non-explicit adult themes that are not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16._

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**Texas, 1875**  
Chapter Fifteen

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Isabella was filled with pride, watching Jasper converse with Ephraim in Spanish. She knew that he understood her when she spoke in her first language, but she never made the connection that he could also speak it fluently. Her heart felt larger than she ever thought it was possible. The feeling she had for Jasper Whitlock was as vast as Texas. She could see no end.

"Es muy guapo," smiled Adana, Ephraim's wife. Isabella felt the heat return to her cheeks. For a fraction she was afraid Adana knew her secret. "Está bien," Adana let out a soft laugh. "There's nothing wrong with that. Alguien tendría que estar muerto, not to notice."

"Sí." Isabella admitted to Adana that Jasper was indeed very handsome. And it was true; you would have to be dead not to notice.

"I am sorry about Mr. Swan," said Adana. There was some truth in her condolence. Edward had been good to them, paid them decent wages. But Adana had learned from Margaret, that his growing old and meeting the grave would be best for Isabella. And since Margaret was not prone to exaggeration, Adana knew Edward was guilty of something great enough against Isabella to deserve the grave. "¿Está casado?" asked Adana glancing in the direction where Jasper was talking with Ephraim.

"Adana," Isabella gave the older woman a pleading look. Adana giggled. It was clear to her that Isabella was enthralled by the young soldier. Looking over her shoulder, Isabella stole a quick glance at Jasper. He was so handsome in the white shirt Margaret gave him. "He's single," Isabella answered Adana. This time the older woman let out a burst of laughter.

"Good," said Adana, "porque se parece enamorado de ti." Isabella's breath drew in sharply. Could it be? Could Jasper Whitlock love her? He hadn't said it, but he was willing to take her as his wife if she ran away with him.

"You think so?" she asked the woman a bit too eagerly.

"Why else would a man be here," Adana's eyes gestured toward the men, "Handling your negocios so todo funciona bien para usted?"

Isabella shrugged her shoulders to Adana's question. Jasper was being kind and considerate. _That's why_, she thought. The moment she finished this thought, she paused and repeated Adana's question to herself. Why would Jasper preoccupy himself with her business, making sure the farm would run good for her? Isabella glanced over her shoulder at Jasper again, his eyes accidently meeting hers. Her heart stilled.

She loved him.

The realization was sudden, shocking her system.

"What's wrong?" asked Adana. "¿Estás bien?"

"What's wrong?" Jasper asked hearing Adana's question to Isabella.

"Nothing." Isabella felt her throat constrict. A nervous smile tucked at the corners of her mouth.

"No tienes que preocuparse," Ephraim assured her. "Since Mr. Swan has fallen ill, I've had to run things on my own. Cada semana, I've been giving him un reporte. Unless algo importante came up. I explained all this to Major Whitlock. From now on, I'll come to you."

"Gracias, Ephraim," Isabella touched the man's arm. "You have always been good to my mother and to me. I appreciate it very much."

"Es nada," Ephraim shook his hand. He struggled to keep his emotions under control. "El Patrón Mainka era un hombre bueno ye su esposa también." The older man cleared his throat. "Your mother, que descanse en la gloria de dios, was good to my wife and my children. A man remembers those that are good to him." Isabella smiled nodding in agreement. "I'll come by the barn tomorrow for my weekly report."

"Good," Isabella nodded. "Come to the house. I'll let Margaret know. We can meet in the library. Yes?" Ephraim stood taller.

"Yes," he nodded. Edward had never invited him to the main house, much less inside.

"Mr. Newton, Edward's lawyer will be coming by either today or tomorrow," Isabella informed the older man. "I'll want you there with me. Nathanial will send for you. You're my superintendent now. Together we'll keep this farm running."

"Thank you," Ephraim was honored. His expression radiant with appreciation. "La aseguro que no voy a deshonrar your trust."

"I know." Isabella touched the man's arm again. She knew Ephraim would never abuse the trust she was placing in him.

Ephraim and Adana escorted them outside to where their horses waited for them. With Jasper's help, Isabella mounted Nuala.

"We'll talk more when you come by tomorrow."

"Yes," smiled Ephraim.

"Adiós," Jasper gestured to the couple. Maneuvering Allegro, he led them back toward the path which would take them back to the house. Jasper was confidant after his conversation with Ephraim that Isabella would be looked after. Though he had just met the man, Jasper knew he could be trusted. Ephraim assured him that he would keep him updated. As Jasper saw it, if he couldn't stay with her, he would make sure Isabella would be taken care of.

Leisurely, they rode back to the house. Their conversation stayed on lighter topics, but it was clear what they each were feeling. Though the words were never spoken, their hearts communicated clearly the ache they each felt.

He was leaving, and she was staying.

That evening when the silence of the night fell upon the house, and everyone laid in their beds asleep, Isabella made her way quietly toward Jasper's room. This would be her last night with him. She tried not to think about it. Instead she was determined to cherish every minute.

As Jasper waited for her to come to him, he thought for sure he was going to die. His chest ached with anticipation for the moment that he would see her enter his room. The thought of not being near her, terrified him. He had never wanted or needed someone as much as Isabella. How would he survive?

His heart stopped. Slowly, the door to his room crept open. Before she was fully inside, Jasper grabbed her, pinning her hard against the wall. His mouth plundered her, seeking the consolation only she could give his heart. Isabella gasped. In only his trousers, his chest bare, Isabella curled her arms under his, running her hands against the smooth planes of his bare back.

She loved Jasper Whitlock.

Releasing her, Jasper closed the door and led her to his bed. For a long stretch of time, the only words they spoke were the sounds of their mutual pleasure.

"Oh Jasper," she whispered, her eyes meeting his.

"Isabella," he murmured, trembling with pleasure. Wrapped inside her, he could sense her nearing her completion.

"Yes," Isabella purred. Closing her eyes, she was washed away in a wave of heat. Jasper pulled himself up, wrapping his arms around her. He thrusted himself farther into her, grunting with his fulfillment under her body's loving and rhythmic caress.

With their bodies intimately entangled, they clung to each other, lost in the warm euphoria of their lovemaking.

"I love you," he whispered into Isabella's ear, kissing her more fervently than before. When he broke the kiss, Isabella was overcome with emotions. She quietly cried. Her hands touching him, making sure she wasn't dreaming.

"I love you too," she confessed. A smile spread across Jasper's face. For several moments, their bodies connected as one, they gazed into each other's eyes.

Jasper's heart was filled with love for Isabella. What was he going to do without her? At daybreak he would return to Laredo. It was unavoidable. But he no longer planned to re-enlist once his commission was over. Instead, he would come back to Isabella.

With her asleep in his arms, Jasper hoped that she would wait for him.

Sometime after he fell asleep, just before sunrise, a knock at the door pulled Jasper and Isabella from their sleep.

"Hold on," Jasper called out. He lit the candle next to the bed. The mirrored quality of the candle stand illuminated the bedroom in a dull light. Pulling the sheet around her chest, Isabella climbed out of Jasper's bed. She waited silently behind the door as Jasper pulled up his trousers. "What is it?" he asked, cracking the door open.

"Good morning." Carlisle held up his candle to Jasper. After several days sleeping in the room next to Jasper, he hadn't gotten much sleep. Instead, he'd gotten nothing but twisted up and frustrated. He was far too eager to get home to his wife. Esme kept a nice home for them close enough to the base that he was home every night.

"I was just making sure you were up," Carlisle grinned. "We leave at daybreak."

Behind the door, hidden from Carlisle, Isabella felt her heart break. She straightened her back, determined to stay strong, knowing this was just as hard, if not more so for Jasper. She stood watching Jasper's profile.

He was giving his first Lieutenant a once over, seeing that Carlisle was already dressed in his uniform. "Get the men up," Jasper instructed Carlisle. The doctor grinned. Everyone was already up and fed. "I'll be down shortly," Jasper told him. "I'll see you outside."

Jasper didn't wait for Carlisle to respond or to turn away. He closed the door on his friend. The moment the door latched, Isabella, forgoing holding on to the sheet covering her body, threw her arms around Jasper. He held her tightly. She was warm and soft. A sharp pain stabbed at the center of his chest.

"I don't want to go," he whispered.

"You have to," Isabella drew back. "I'll make some coffee for you." Isabella turned around searching for her sleeping gown.

"You don't have to do that." Jasper told her.

"Don't." She threw the Major a stern look before pulling her sleeping gown over her head. Jasper's breath hitched, his eyes fixed on the vision of fire encased in soft skin. He felt himself straighten.

Isabella slipped her robe on, tying securely the ribbons. They were down to the last moments, and she was going to make sure Jasper left with a full stomach.

"Get dressed," she instructed him.

Jasper smiled. At times Isabella's fire melted him, and at other times her flame refined him.

"I love you," she propped herself on her toes, her hands on his chest and kissed him. "I'll be waiting for you downstairs."

Closing Jasper's door, the tears Isabella was fighting against, silently stained her cheeks. Wiping them away with one hand, she held out her candle and made her way downstairs.

When she reached the kitchen, to her surprise, Margaret was up. "Mornin'," Margaret gave Isabella a warm smile.

"Anything I can do?" Isabella asked. Her delicate features strained as she realized that Margaret must have been up for at least an hour or more.

"Don't you worry any," Margaret approached Isabella. "The men have been served, all except your Major." The older woman lovingly touched Isabella's cheek. "I put a small setting in the dining room for the two of you."

"Margaret."

"Shh now," said the older woman. "Go on. There's not much time left."

Isabella hugged the woman before turning to enter the dining room. The room was gently lit by a few candles. Sitting at the table, Isabella sat nursing a cup of coffee as she waited for Jasper. She was about to go back up stairs, when he appeared in the entrance way. Her heart jolted inside her chest.

"You should eat," Isabella stood and began to serve Jasper. He was about to protest, but stopped himself knowing that she needed this time as much as he did.

"When do you see the lawyer?" Jasper tried to make small talk.

"He's coming by this afternoon."

"Don't forget to have Ephraim with you." Isabella smiled at Jasper, her heart swelling inside her chest. "Write me if things aren't favorable."

"I will," Isabella watched him as he ate.

"If you won't be taken care of," Jasper looked up, meeting her gaze. "I'll come first thing and bring you and Alice to Laredo. We'll get married. As a married officer, the Army will help with providing us a home."

"Married?"

"Yes," answered Jasper. Isabella's smiled spread across her face. "As soon as we're able to, unless that's not what you want." Jasper looked at her as she rose from her chair and sat on his lap. His hand came up and rested on her back.

"Yes," she whispered. "I'll marry you Jasper Whitlock."

Jasper drew in a sharp breath. "I love you," he enjoyed saying it. It was liberating. It was true. With his hand behind her neck, he drew her toward his lips. Forgetting his plate, Jasper was more interested in holding Isabella than trying to force food down his throat.

Their embrace was soon interrupted. "Major," Carlisle stood at the entrance to the dining room, averting his eyes. "It's time." Hauling in a sharp breath, Jasper reluctantly stood. "Isabella, it was a great pleasure. I hope to you see you soon."

"Thank you Carlisle, for everything." Bowing respectfully to his hostess, Carlisle exited.

"Well," she whispered.

Jasper nodded. With Isabella at his side, he slowly made his way toward the front door where his gear was waiting for him. Each step filled the young couple with a quiet agony. Jasper hesitated to release her hand. Bending over to reach for his things, he stopped. He turned and drew Isabella into his arms for one last embrace.

"Wait for me," he breathed.

"I'll wait until my last breath," she whispered in his ear.

"I love you." Jasper kissed her for the last time. Pulling away from her, he filled his hands with his gear and stepped onto the porch. He hardened his expression and marched toward his men. From behind the screen door, Isabella watched as Jasper mounted his horse. The next moment, the soldiers rode away.

Her beating heart pounded wildly against her chest. _Wait. _Quickly, Isabella stepped onto the porch, following it as it wrapped around the house. She watched expectantly, longingly at Jasper's departing figure. Her hand touched her lips, remembering how his touch felt; his kisses.

In the distance, Jasper turned at the last moment. In the growing light of daybreak, he could see Isabella watching him. His eyes stung with tears as a small smile spread across his face. Isabella waved at him.

A few strides later, she was out of his line of sight.

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	16. Chapter 16

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**Texas, 1859  
**Epilogue

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It had been just over a year since he had last seen Isabella, and yet the memory of their time together was as clear and fresh as if it had happened yesterday. He was no longer stationed at Fort McIntosh in Laredo. For the last five months he'd been at Fort Davis securing the Trans-Pecos portion of the San Antonio-El Paso Road and the Chihuahua Trail. His orders had been to control and stem the Comanche and Apache attacks on those traveling the trails.

A year early, almost as soon as he had arrived in Laredo, Jasper had written Rosalie setting her free from any obligations toward him. To Jasper's relief, Rosalie, like him, felt nothing for him but sisterly love. Apparently, she had met someone named John and was very much in love. That following spring, they were married. Jasper was happy for her, but her happiness only made him keenly aware of the distance separating Isabella from him.

His only consolation that made their separation less potent was the days when the mail came in for the soldiers. Isabella made certain that he had a letter from her each time. She kept him updated of every news small or great happening in her life. He had learned that Edward had clung to life after he and his men departed. His health seemed to have improved for a few months. However, about six months after Jasper had left, Edward eventually succumbed to his disease. Though Isabella's husband had lacked honor in the way he treated her, he had made sure that her future was secured. Everything he had, had been willed to his young wife.

It was also through her letters that Jasper had learned she was carrying his child. While Edward was alive, Jasper had feared every day that Edward would suspect that Bella was with child. He feared that he would harm them. However, Isabella assured him that by the time she was showing, Edward was not lucid enough to know what was happening around him. He still didn't breathe easily until he received her letter telling him that Edward had passed away.

At that time Jasper was prepared to purchase his freedom from the Army. But as much as Bella yearned to have him by her side, she restrained herself. The money he would have had to use to gain his freedom was too great a sacrifice. She bravely wrote to him that her and their unborn child were safe and she assured him that they would be waiting for him when he returned. So for the last several months, Jasper had to be content with only Isabella's letters and photos. He devoured her news on her progress, and eventually on their son's. These letters kept his hope alive. The hope that one day he would hold the woman he loved once again.

Carefully, Jasper placed his most recent and last letter from Bella into the tin box he kept her letters in. Securing them in his nap sack, Jasper tightened the leather strap. Today he was leaving Fort Davis. Today he was no longer married to the Army. Today and every day forward, he belonged only to Isabella.

He mounted Allegro, and started the five day ride home. His breath fluttered inside his chest. _Home_. All the years he'd been an officer in the Army, now gave him the discipline to pace himself, taking rests when needed before resuming his course. But it was the last few miles, when he was hardly able to contain himself. Then when he saw the house and outbuildings from the distance, Jasper gave Allegro a few clicks and he went from a canter into a gallop, only slowing when they came within the yard.

"God almighty," gasped Margaret.

"Its Jasper!" shouted Alice. She sprang up and ran into the house shouting, "Jasper's home! Bella, Jasper's home."

"I'm coming," Isabella called out from the bedroom. She swaddled little Thaddeus in his blanket, and drew him close to her. Inside her chest, a concerto drummed as her heart raced with anticipation. As quickly as she safely could, Isabella made her way down the stairs and to the front door. "Breathe," Margaret reminded Bella. "He's just a man."

Isabella let out a gentle laugh. Jasper Whitlock was more than just a man. He was her everything.

Before Jasper dismounted, Isabella was overwhelmed. Tears streamed down her face as she walked toward him. "Bella," Jasper's face contorted. Around the rims of his eyes, tears welled. He wrapped his arms around her, trembling. His tears mingled with hers. At last, after a year, his mouth pressed tenderly and longingly, meeting her ruby red lips. Overcome with such a heavenly joy, they laughed and cried together. Jasper struggled to steady his breathing. His eyes proudly gazed at the warm plump bundle in Isabella's arms.

"This is your son; Thaddeus." Isabella introduced Jasper to his son. Grinning, Jasper gently tried to dislodge the infant's chunky fist from his mouth. "Hello Thad. I'm your Pa'." Baby Thaddeus closed his wet dimpled hand around Jasper's finger. "Thank you, Bella," Jasper's voice cracked as he leaned forward and kissed Isabella. "He's beautiful," Jasper ran his large hand over his son's fuzzy bald head, kissing him.

"Hi Jasper," little Alice waved up at him.

"Come here squirt," Jasper smiled at Alice, bending down to give her an affectionate hug. "You've been good to your sister?"

"Yes sir," grinned Alice revealing a missing tooth.

"Welcome home Major," Margaret gave him a warm smile. And to her surprise Jasper wrapped her in a big hug. "Oh my," gasped Margaret. Her darker complexion hid the blush staining her cheeks. "You must be tired from your long journey."

"I'm good now." Jasper stared down at Isabella, allowing himself to be wrapped in the depths of her hauntingly, beautiful, dark eyes. With his arm proudly around Isabella's waist, little Alice skipping merrily around them, baby Thaddeus sucking on his little dimpled fist, they followed Margaret into the house.

Feeling more content than he'd ever felt in his life, Jasper was finally Home.

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**THE END**

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**A/N:** _Thank you for reading my story. I'd love to hear any last thoughts. __Click the button below. All critiques are welcomed._


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